petiti om on C W 1 in /2 n 0 e 2 r 0 s

2 • • T t h c i e l U f n n o he C a of rd Voices During the 2020/21 competition we received entries from these 99 countries, territories and dependencies:

Afghanistan Guyana Oman Argentina Honduras Pakistan Armenia Hong Kong Panama Australia India Peru Austria Indonesia Philippines Azerbaijan Iran Qatar Bahrain Iraq Romania Bangladesh Ireland Russia Belarus Italy Rwanda Belgium Japan Saint Kitts and Nevis Bhutan Jersey Scotland Bolivia Jordan Serbia Bosnia and Herzegovina Kazakhstan Sierra Leone Brazil Kenya Singapore Bulgaria Kuwait Slovakia Canada Kyrgyzstan South Africa Chile Lebanon South Korea China Liberia Spain Colombia Libya Sri Lanka Costa Rica Lithuania Sweden Cyprus Macedonia Taiwan Czech Republic Malaysia Tajikistan Dominica Mexico Thailand Dominican Republic Moldova Tunisia Ecuador Mongolia Turkey Egypt Montenegro Uganda England Morocco Ukraine France Nepal United Arab Emirates Georgia New Zealand United States Germany Nicaragua Uzbekistan Greece Nigeria Vietnam Guatemala Northern Ireland Wales Guernsey Norway Zimbabwe Competition Winners Ages 9-11 Poetry (9-11) - 1st Place A Military Child by Tyler Larkin, England

One bleak winter morning, More unusual than most. My dad left home to catch his flight, For his new overseas post.

My head could not quite grasp it, My heart was running wild, Conflicting emotions often felt, By a military child.

I question why he left us, I could not say for sure. He could not take us with him, Yet he did not go to war.

My father is a soldier, A hero, I believe. Yet to serve among an army, Means that sometimes they must leave.

Till’ now I’ve been quite lucky, His job remained right here. For only once he went to war, And I was too young to feel fear.

He’s never been away so long, It’s goodbye, but not forever. A year will come to pass, And again, we’ll be together.

In dark times I have carried on, Through sadness I have smiled. This is strength conveyed from soldiers, To a military child. Poetry (9-11) - 2nd Place Voices, Voices by Tom Nalder, New Zealand

And from the darkness, And from the air, came voices of conflict the smoky coughing voices: we’d never heard begging: “We can’t breathe, “Let us join the world.” save us now.”

And from the fire, And from the sky, and smoke and ash the faint voices of stars: came war-torn voices: “You have stolen our light, “Give us a country we can’t shine bright.” where we can live in peace.” Now in the light And from the sea, of knowledge and hope: the voices of refugees: “Let us banish conflict “Please let us in, from my life and yours.” please let us join you.”

And from the earth, the angry voices of hills and forests: “Don’t destroy us, don’t forget us.”

Tom’s Inspiration:

I thought of the elements earth, air, fire, and water then added darkness and light, to show that every corner of the earth and sky, is packed with unheard voices of conflict. Voices that I tried to move from the darkness to the light, so that they can be seen, heard and listened to. Poetry (9-11) - 3rd Place Крестьянская война by Roman Vasiliev, Russia

Сто лет назад Крестьяне вышли и восстали В России крестьянин Против всех грабителей. Вовсе не был рад «Не дадим больше блин!» - Иметь земельный чин. Ответил крестьянин.

У деда семеро детей, Они с вилами, косами С утра пахали, сеяли. Стали воевать с ними. Было коней четверо, По снегу полилась кровь Коровы, петухи пели. Алая, как морковь.

Вечером лапти плели, Дед мой, зажиточный, Потом это продавали, Как мог, сопротивлялся. Так жили, не тужили, «Ты подохнешь точно!» - Но тишину нарушили. Солдат с ружьём махался.

Одна война, вторая… Толкнули рыть могилу, И все: «Давайте хлеб!» И перед ямой – в лоб! С ружьём искали рая, Бросили чуть землю, В село они топ-топ. Никто не видел чтоб.

Крестьянин: «Не дам!» Солдат хоронили Начал прятать зерно. С памятником со звездой. А солдаты: «Ням-ням! А крестьян хоронили Ну, должно ж быть оно!» Как скота, без обряда.

Please See the Following Page for an English Translation Peasant’s War

A hundred years ago The peasants came out and rebelled In Russia, a peasant Against all robbers. Wasn’t happy at all “We won’t give more pancakes!” - Have a rank of land. The peasant answered.

Grandfather has seven children They are with pitchforks, braids We plowed and sowed in the morning. They began to fight with them. There were four horses, Blood poured in the snow The cows and the roosters were singing. Scarlet like carrots.

In the evening we wove bast shoes My grandfather, well-to-do, Then they sold it, He resisted as best he could. So they lived, did not grieve, “You will die for sure!” - But the silence was broken. A soldier with a gun was waving.

One war, the second ... Pushed to dig a grave And all: “Let’s get bread!” And in front of the pit - in the forehead! They were looking for paradise with a gun They just threw the ground In the village they are top-top. Nobody saw that.

Peasant: “I won’t!” The soldier was buried He began to hide the grain. With a monument with a star. And the soldiers: “Yum-yum! And the peasants were buried Well, there must be it! “ Like cattle, no ritual. Poetry (9-11) - Honourable Mention Stop Destroying Our Home by Poppy Whittaker, England

Our home is being destroyed, Just for cattle, farms, plantations. There are already enough of them, But we’re slowly running out.

We are the indigenous people of Brazil, Just trying to keep the old ways, The traditions and ways of living, So stop destroying our home.

Just because we don’t live like you, Doesn’t mean we are lesser. The conflict we are facing, Crushing us inside.

We are the indigenous people of Brazil, Just trying to keep the old ways, The traditions and ways of living, So stop destroying our home.

So stop destroying our home, We are no different from you. Art (9-11) - 1st Place Surviving Family by Anna Antonyan, Armenia

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This haunting image speaks to conflict of all kinds and in all geographies. Its universality is heart-breaking.’ ­— Max May, CEO of Rural Arts

‘There is real skill in this work, it feels like it has been painted by someone much older, and the expression in the family’s eyes are haunting.’ — Paisley Randell, Artist & Filmmaker

‘This is a great presentation of a tragic family portrait, the eyes especially capture the haunting nature of war.’ — Cole Sternberg, Artist

‘Loss and grief. Good work of art.’ — Vasco Kretschmann, Volksbund Art (9-11) - 2nd Place A Child from Syria by Viara Pencheva, Bulgaria

Viara’s Inspiration:

There are many conflicts around the world that have a detrimental effect on children. Here is the story of my painting:

Amina was a little Syrian girl. She had experienced the horrors of violent and bloody fighting in Damascus, in which thousands of innocent people died. In one such battle, Amina lost her mother, who died to protect her from the bullets. The little girl survived and managed to escape. Together with her grandmother she came to Bulgaria. Here they were accommodated in a special home. Amina went to school and soon found friends.

Every day, however, she remembered her mother and she was very sad. One day Amina decided to paint her. She took chalks from school and went outside. She painted her mother on the asphalt and cuddled in her arms. Amina felt the warmth of her mother’s love again and she was happy. Art (9-11) - 3rd Place Lack of Education by Ziah Kim, California - United States

Ziah’s Inspiration:

The artwork that I made is on a boy who lives in a poor country with lack of education. He imagines a better place, a cleaner and healthier area to go to school. He imagines himself in a classroom, smiling and looking around, but the reality is the poor, dirty classroom that he comes to every day. Children with the benefit of having better education should appreciate their school and the environment because some kids really wish to have that lucky opportunity.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘Very unusual understanding and presentation of the conflict. It seems that it shows another reality, a desired one. Expectation vs what it is now. A different kind of conflict – an educational one.’ — Veronika Zonabend, Founding Partner of UWC Dilijan Art (9-11) - Honourable Mention The Bread in Besieged Leningrad during World War II by Alyona Krasilova, Russia

Alyona’s Inspiration:

In this picture I depicted my great great grandmother and great grandmother who survived in the siege of Leningrad during World War II. I admire them for their strong character and perseverance. I didn’t get a chance to meet them in person as they both passed before I was born. World War II was a very difficult time for all people in Russia and especially to children. No family in Russia was left untouched by this war. Very few children and women participated in the field operations, but they too contributed to the victory. They did everything possible and impossible to help the soldiers. Their lives are the unheard voices of the war.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘The feminist take on the unsung heroes of the War is highly commendable.’ — Vivian Huang, Freelance Artist Speech (9-11) - 1st Place Η ΔΥΝΑΜΗ ΤΗΣ ΦΩΝΗΣ / The Power of the Voice by Ioannis Zekios, Greece

Πάρα πολλές φωνές που δεν μίλησαν για τον πόλεμο βρίσκονται χαμένες στο σκοτάδι.

Ο πόλεμος δεν είναι καλό πράγμα και αυτό το ξέρουν όλοι οι άνθρωποι. Στους περισσότερους ή και όλους τους πολέμους μάλιστα υπάρχουν φωνές που δεν ακούστηκαν και αυτές δεν είναι μόνο πολλές αλλά φτάνουν έναν πολύ μεγάλο αριθμό. Μία φωνή από αυτές είναι ενός παιδιού.

Όλοι ξέρουμε τον Ελληνοΐταλικό πόλεμο του 1940. Μέσα στa θύματα ήταν και αυτή η οικογένεια.

Στην αρχή όταν άρχισε ο πόλεμος, δηλαδή την 28η, Οκτωβρίου του 1940, άρχισαν όλα. Ο πατέρας του παιδιού, το έμαθε από τις εφημερίδες και έπρεπε αναγκαστικά να φύγει, για να πολεμήσει. Στα γρήγορα ντύθηκε και έφυγε για το τρένο. Αφού φυσικά το είχε πει στην μητέρα του και τον πατέρα του. Κάθε μέρα, αυτοί που έμειναν πίσω, αγωνιούσαν και προσεύχονταν να είναι ζωντανός ο πατέρας. Ώσπου μια μέρα επέστρεψε ο πατέρας τους με κρυοπαγήματα και με πόνο. Στο τέλος πέθανε από την αρρώστια! Το παιδί αυτό ήταν κατά του πολέμου το ίδιο και η μητέρα του. Πάντα ήταν κατά. Αλλά πού να ακουστεί ο λαός μέσα στον πόλεμο! Ήταν μια φωνή που δεν εισακούστηκε ανάμεσα σε εκατομμύρια άλλες φωνές εκείνη την εποχή.

Αυτό που θέλω να πω με αυτήν την ιστορία είναι ότι ο πόλεμος είναι ό,τι χειρότερο! Δεν υπάρχει κάτι χειρότερο από τον πόλεμο. Αυτό που κάνει κακό τον πόλεμο είναι ότι χύνεται αίμα και ότι δεν υπάρχει ούτε ειρήνη, ούτε κάτι καλό γενικά. Οι φωνές που δεν εισακούστηκαν παλιά, θα εισακουστούν τώρα πριν γίνει και άλλο κακό. Δεν είναι μόνο η πλευρά του πολέμου ‘’άντε πάμε να κάνουμε πόλεμο!’’. Σε κάθε πόλεμο πρέπει να ακουστούν όλες οι φωνές. Δυστυχώς όμως οι περισσότεροι άνθρωποι που ζούσαν εκείνη την εποχή πέθαναν. Αλλά υπάρχουν και σήμερα άνθρωποι που είναι κατά του πολέμου, όπως και εγώ φυσικά. Οι φωνές αυτές πρέπει να ακουστούν όχι μόνο σε μια χώρα αλλά και σε όλες τις ηπείρους της γης. Αν δεν ακουστούν οι φωνές αυτές για την ειρήνη και για την ελευθερία δεν ξέρω και εγώ τι θα γίνει.

Continued Overleaf Υπάρχουν πολλές πάρα πολλές φωνές που δεν ακούστηκαν και νομίζω ότι είναι ένας πολύ μεγάλος αριθμός που αν μετρηθεί θα πάθετε σοκ. Έτσι πιστεύω εγώ! Μπορεί κάποια φωνή ή κάποιες φωνές από τις εκατομμύρια να ακούστηκαν αλλά σίγουρα είναι πάρα μα πάρα πολύ λίγες.

Τέλος πάντων, εκεί που θέλω να καταλήξω είναι ότι οι φωνές αυτές αν είχαν ακουστεί όχι μόνο δεν θα είχαν γίνει τόσοι πόλεμοι αλλά όλοι θα ήταν ειρηνικοί. Αν υπάρχει κάποιος άνθρωπος που φοβάται να μιλήσει είτε για την ελευθερία, είτε για τον πόλεμο μην διστάσει να μιλήσει, γιατί αν μιλήσει, αυτός μπορεί να δώσει το καλό παράδειγμα να μιλήσουν και άλλοι πολλοί άνθρωποι. Ακόμη και αν δεν ακουστούν οι φωνές αυτές, προσπάθησαν και αυτό μετράει πάρα πολύ. Έστω, δεν κράτησαν το στόμα τους κλειστό και μίλησαν για τον πόλεμο! Ελπίζω να μιλήσουν πολλοί, πάρα πολλοί άνθρωποι. Μαζί τους και εγώ θα μιλήσω. Τέλος πιστεύω να μην παραμείνουν σιωπηλές αυτές οι φωνές, ώστε να μην χυθεί άλλο αίμα και να μην γίνει άλλος πόλεμος ξανά!

Too many voices that did not speak about the war are lost in the dark.

War is not a good thing and everyone knows that. In most or all wars, in fact, there are voices that were not heard and these are not only many but reach a very large number. One of them is the voice of a child.

We all know the Greek-Italian war of 1940. Among the victims was this family. At the beginning, when the war started, that is, on October 28, 1940, everything started. The father of the child learned it from the newspapers and had to leave to fight. He quickly got dressed and left for the train. Of course he had told his mother and father. Every day, those left behind were anxious and praying that the father would be alive. Until one day their father returned with frostbite and pain. In the end he died of the disease! This child was against the war, as was his mother. He was always against. But where to hear the people in the war! It was a voice that was not heard among millions of other voices at that time.

What I mean by this story is that war is the worst! There is nothing worse than war. What makes war bad is that blood is shed and that there is neither peace nor anything good in general. Voices that were not heard in the past will be heard now before anything else happens. It’s not just the war side, “Let’s go to war!” In every war all voices must be heard. Unfortunately, most of the people living at that time died. But there are still people today who are against the war, as I am, of course. These voices must be heard not only in one country but on all continents of the earth. If these voices for peace and freedom are not heard, I do not know what will happen.

Continued Overleaf There are many, many voices that were not heard and I think it is a very large number that if counted you will be shocked. I think so! Maybe some voice or some voices from the millions were heard but they are certainly very, very few.

Anyway, what I want to conclude is that if these voices had been heard not only would not so many wars have taken place but everyone would have been peaceful. If there is a person who is afraid to talk about either freedom or war, do not hesitate to talk, because if he does, he can set a good example for many other people to talk about. Even if these voices are not heard, they try and that counts a lot. At least, they did not keep their mouths shut and talked about the war! I hope many, many people speak. I will talk to them too. Finally, I believe that these voices should not remain silent, so that no more blood is shed and no more war is fought again!

Listen to Ioannis’ speech here Speech (9-11) - 2nd Place The Purple Poppies by Florrie, England Ladies and gentleman, I would like to draw your attention to a much neglected aspect of war and remembrance. I understand the importance of all the other participants in the war. We will always remember those who fought for our freedom. We will always remember those who protected our home front and lived through this dreadful time such as women and even children. We will always remember those who helped soldiers, nurses and medics. But I urge you also to remember an unrecognised, often overlooked group - the animals of war. Will you remember the Purple Poppies?

Dogs and horses were used for different reasons in the war. Horses were often usedto carry luggage whereas dogs gave warnings in delivered messages. But there was one thing they had in common: helping the wounded! Dogs carried medkits and horses carried the wounded on their backs. There was one dog in particular that helped during the war on the side of America. His name was Sergeant Stubby. He helped detect enemies and saved many soldiers from a gas attack.

Camels and elephants were actually used for the same reason - they carried luggage. Elephants would carry weapons and large items. On the other hand camels would carry the wounded to safety and hold small items and rations in sacks. Camels would sometimes be shot in the hump or humps, representing just how dangerous it was for them.

Pigeons were essential, especially in World War One. They delivered thousands of messages and saved hundreds of lives. There was a particularly amazing pigeon named Cher Ami. Cher Ami was a messenger pigeon who saved the lives of 200 people.

Imagine a world without the animals where we might not have won the war, where gas leaks and explosions were common and where there was no one to retrieve the wounded. This is why we should remember them. Just think for a moment. Think about how it would have felt to be an animal back then. Will you remember the Purple Poppies?

Listen to Florrie’s speech here Speech (9-11) - 3rd Place My Family’s Life in South Sudan by Puondak Mawien, Australia

Good Morning. My name is Puondak. This is my family life before coming to Australia. In Africa it was good. We might have a different colour, but we were seen as to be the first human on earth. I love the stories passed down from our grandparents, mum and dad.

Just to educate you a bit about South Sudan. South Sudan is in the African continent. In 1983 the civil war broke out in Sudan. Many young people took up guns and joined the war between Southern Sudanese and Northern Sudanese. It was a bloody war. Soldiers forced the village people to leave with guns. Many people lost lives and some people had to leave their villages and moved to the cities. Some left Sudan to go to different neighbouring countries. It was a very sad time for us. 400,000 people died.

This was hurt. This is war. When the first war has finished our country was broken. People walk down the street seeing hunger and thirst. This is not good to treat planet Earth.

During the war mum and dad met. They got married and escaped to Egypt. After that they had me. I was proudly born in the year of 2011. The year was a year that South Sudan got Independence. Our language is still spoken with pride and joy but we will never forget what had happened in the historical days. Less we forget what happened in the past.

This is my story.

Watch Puondak’s speech here Speech (9-11) - Honourable Mention Inspirational Speech by Advait Aras, Indiana - United States

Hello, my name is Advait Aras, and I am from the United States of America. Today, I would like to talk about conflict that many times goes unnoticed.

In school, I learned that there are 4 main types of conflict. Man vs. man, man vs. society, man vs. nature, and man vs. self. An example of man vs. man is two people in an argument. Corruption and nepotism are examples of man vs. society. Natural disasters, global warming, and pollution are all examples of man vs nature. The one I really wondered about was man vs. self. What does it really mean?

According to the Merriam Webster Dictionary, mental health means: the condition of being sound mentally and emotionally that is characterized by the absence of mental illness and by adequate adjustment especially as reflected in feeling comfortable about oneself, positive feelings about others, and the ability to meet the demands of daily life.

The definition simplified means being capable, positive, and in a good state of mind. When someone has mental health issues or disorders, they are feeling unhappy and uncomfortable. They are conflicting against themselves. When one is sick, they need to go to adoctor. When one is mentally sick, they need to go to a psychiatrist. A psychiatrist is someone who identifies and investigates mental disorders.

One example of a developmental disorder is autism. Autism is a condition of a person struggling with behavior, speech or nonverbal communication. Famous figures with autism include Bill Gates, the tech billionaire, and Stephen Hawking, the theoretical physicist. According to the Center of Disease Control, 1 in 54 children in the United States are affected with autism. Autism is a mental health issue that many people don’t often acknowledge as an inner conflict.

Another example is depression. Depression is a mental health disorder that causes a constant feeling of no interest and unhappiness. Fans of Harry Potter may be familiar with the dementor, a dark creature that sucks all the happiness out of a person. The author, J.K. Rowling, suffered from depression, and she based the dark creature off of herown experiences. Other people who suffered from depression include Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon and Lady Gaga.

Continued Overleaf The people who think depression is all in your head and simply a sign of weakness will likely turn down the fact that depression is actually a diagnosable mental illness related to brain chemistry, function structure, and sometimes environmental or biological factors. This goes to show that the true facts of depression are overlooked, and is definitely not a sign of weakness or just in one’s head.

One incredibly overlooked mental health issue that affects around 85% of America is low self- esteem. It affects all kinds of people, such as students, parents, teachers, grandparents, and more. You probably know someone who has low self-esteem. The one girl who doesn’t wear the clothes she wants in fear of being laughed at. That one boy who doesn’t play his favorite sport for fear of losing. Low self-esteem means you can’t make decisions, are feeling guilty about actions, not feeling capable of, and holding back on needs, wants, and feelings. Some ways to increase self-esteem is to stop self criticizing, think positively, accept compliments, and resist from regretting decisions all the time. Many people don’t recognize this conflict as a mental health issue, but low-self esteem is one of the most prominent conflicts within the mind.

Those examples were 3 of the many self struggles that affect people. Remember to always meet with someone you trust to talk about your problems, such as a psychiatrist or a family member. There is a stigma around mental health, but it is as important as all of the other struggles around the world. While writing this speech, I realized that we often overlook these accounts of conflict within the inner mind and body and that is what inspired me to write about these untold stories of conflict from around the world. Thank ou.Y

Watch Advait’s speech here Song (9-11) - 1st Place Welcome Home by Emily Rawlins & Lewis Elliott, England

Waiting at the dockyard Waiting at the Barracks Bridge: Time is moving slow Standing side by side A day at sea Great anticipation All in this together And another mission Someone’s coming home Full of strength and pride flying solo

Waiting at the airhead In the Armed Forces We’re marching on Time apart is hard Lives are on the line Strength in us together No more need to worry Seen so many things We’re unbreakable When you’re in my arms But they keep their spirits high So sing it out loud

Chorus: Chorus: Chorus: Welcome home Welcome home Welcome home Feeling proud together Feeling proud together Feeling proud together We are family We are family We are family No ones left alone No ones left alone No ones left alone

Come on home Come on home Come on home It’s so nice to see ya It’s so nice to see ya It’s so nice to see ya Been a while since Been a while since Been a while since We’ve had this, I know We’ve had this, I know We’ve had this, I know So wel-come home So wel-come home So wel-come home

Listen to ‘Welcome Home’ here Song (9-11) - 2nd Place Souls by Jahnel Marseglia-Mendy, England

Sometimes I feel so lost, sometimes I feel alone, I’m looking at this world but all I see is war, I’ve lost my hope it drained away, and now I’m lost in a maze of hate. I’ve drifted through the hardest of troubles no-one there to guide me out and now I’m here at the lowest of levels, all of my dreams ripped out.

And while all of this happens, voices fade away, drifting into the darkness, souls never to be seen again,

There was a time when light and peace roamed, all over the world, but then the bombs dropped and everyone was hurt People hid in fear cowering at the drills wondering if harmony would ever appear, All of the broken with voids in their hearts turn to spirits with no aim in their lives, their souls turn dark, they crawl away, voices fading into the day.

And while all of this happens, voices fade away, drifting into the darkness, souls never to be seen again,

All of the broken with voids in their hearts turn to spirits with no aim in their life, their souls turn dark they crawl away voices fading into the day

And while all of this happens, voices fade away, drifting into the darkness, souls never to be seen again, (X2)

Listen to ‘Souls’ here Competition Winners Ages 11-14 Poetry (11-14) - 1st Place All Alone by Tilly Dhami-Hounsome, Jersey

I cling tightly onto my cuddly bear I peer down in the darkness towards the boat My mummy is carrying the few items we share “Where is daddy?”I ask

Sleep still grips me and I fight a yawn My mum grasps my hand and pulls me close A baby cries, it’s not yet dawn “Where is daddy?” I ask

Approaching us comes men in black Scared whispers assaulting the silence To make some space, we all edge back “Where is daddy?” I ask

A flashlight’s relief, we’re all basked in light I look behind and see a small girl all alone A man in black calls to us, a shadowy sight “Where is daddy?” I ask

He gives us a torn life jacket, and mummy tightens it around me She knots it twice and a third time I squeeze teddy but cannot move freely “Where is daddy?” I ask

Mummy’s fingers tremble as she lifts me onto the boat I lurch forwards and hands jostle me about I search for mummy’s familiar coat “Where is mummy?” I ask Poetry (11-14) - 2nd Place The Man Across the Water by David Oladejo, Nigeria

He ran, and ran, and ran, In total darkness, he fled. With no strategy, no plan, Not an inkling of what will lie ahead.

He wanted to keep running, never turning to look back. The sins he tried to bury kept coming; He could feel an oncoming heart attack. He tried to cover his ears to block out the horrific screams. The ones that haunted him every night in his dreams.

But they echoed only louder. He tried to close his eyes. But even then, he saw splotches of red. The innocent blood his cruel sins had shed.

As he walked, he came by a babbling brook. Sun-kissed, dreamy, yet far from still. He longed to be shrouded by a blanket of its luscious waves, Yes! It was his final will.

As he bent down to take his last breath, Finally surrendering to the merciless fangs of death. He saw a familiar man staring right back at him, From across the glistening waters of the placid stream.

He was staring at his 20-year-old self. The daring youth he had once been; optimistic, afraid of nothing. Ready to shake the world by the throat and be someone the world had never seen. Then the war came and turned his heart ice-cold. Took everything away from him, put his dreams on hold.

Continued Overleaf His fiery passions were watered, hopes and ambitions mercilessly slaughtered. He looked at the young man once again.

His eyes glistened with tears as he finally understood. This man had enlisted because he wanted to. Someone had to sacrifice, someone had to pay a dear price. So, it was okay to cry, okay to miss those that died.

But, the healing process will soon begin. Emotional scars will fade, prayers will be raised, hope will bubble within again. He remembered the most intense moments at the battlefront. Though painful, he was grateful.

What an honour it was to serve the country he loved. As he pondered these things, there was not a hint of regret. He wasn’t ready to die anymore, at least not yet.

David’s Inspiration:

This year’s theme: ‘The Unheard Voices of Conflict: Stories from Around the World’ was indeed a remarkable one. It allowed me to give a voice to those who had none. In my poem “The Man from Across the Waters”, I placed myself in the shoes of a retired soldier. I saw the world through his eyes. I felt his pain of being misunderstood and sensed his burden of guilt. All that I learnt through the process of composing this heartfelt piece, can be condensed within this simple quote: “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This poem deals in an original way with a familiar and often over-worked topic, the memory of trauma in conflict. The twist, that pride and fulfilment can exist alongside pain, gives its mid-way point punch. The sense of nuance is as refreshing as the waters of the stream.’ — Sir Hew Strachan DL, British Military Historian Poetry (11-14) - 3rd Place Torn in Two by Ayushi Jha, India

As I dangled from the railings of the crowded train, my eyes in tears, my heart in pain, my motherland: torn in twain.

I did not know where I belonged, I felt so utterly wronged, and as the train started moving, we all broke into prayer and song

I am torn in two, And so is my Hindustan.

Another band of crooks came along, I hide under a shawl, not knowing to whom it belonged, but the bloodstains on it proved the owner long gone.

And while the bandits fought for their religion, I cried and hoped this storm too subsides, and wondered, “Is this truly the freedom my father wanted to see with his own eyes?”

For days and days, this went on, not a morsel of food, nor a family to call my own, a mere child, I was stranded alone, with distressing memories of the land that I had to disown.

Surrounded by cries and wails, and women with blood and dirt-caked nails, and infants crawling on the roadsides, stranded, hungry and frail.

Continued Overleaf My uncle of nineteen was nowhere to be seen, to look for him, I walked out unseen, only to turn around and see it blown into smithereens.

Then came the men, perhaps ten or five, and in my mind, I repeated, “I must survive!”

I closed my eyes, my mouth tasting of copper, Dreaming about life beside the Indus river, tasting its water, Wondering how many are alive and how many were slaughtered, While yearning for freedom for their daughters and granddaughters.

I am still torn in two, between my motherland and this land so new, this new nation I eventually took a liking to and decided to start my life anew, and yet the scars stay as a reminder, the colour of black and blue.

Ayushi’s Inspiration:

This poem was inspired by the struggles faced by my grandfather and his family. They immigrated from (now) Pakistan to India after the 1947 Partition. It describes the desolation, loss of life, violence and hunger faced by the millions of people travelling across these newly made countries. I have tried my best to convey the emotions that one must have felt in such a trying situation. I would advise cautionary reading to anyone who finds such topics triggering. Poetry (11-14) - Honourable Mention Little Known Heroes by Daniel Lovewell, New Zealand

Lampyris noctiluca The European glowworm Emitting light through bioluminescence.

Huddled in dank, dark trenches Soldiers of all ranks Turned to the incandescent insects.

Collecting them in jars by the thousands Instant but ephemeral lanterns Allowing soldiers to work.

Examining intelligence reports, Studying battle maps Reading comforting letters from home.

Lampyris noctiluca The European glowworm Voiceless helpers in dark times.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This is a poem that takes an unusual viewpoint and uses unusual words. Carefully constructed in three line stanzas it uses some strong, simple emotive words - ‘huddled’, ‘helpless’, ‘voiceless’ - and intersects them with scientific terminology. The effect is to encourage us to vary our viewpoint from close up to a more distanced and universal view. Congratulations to this poet for giving such an original response to the theme of Unheard Voices.’ — Michaela Morgan, Poet & Author Art (11-14) - 1st Place My Life Matters by Hailey O’Halloran, Nevada - United States

Judge’s Reflections:

‘Highlights the pertinent and urgent issue of racism against BIPOC and other minorities.’ — Vivian Huang, Freelance Artist

‘The artistry of this piece is incredible.’ — Max May, CEO of Rural Arts

‘I cannot imagine the time spent on this and how that must have felt creating the work. This is such an important and powerful symbol. Exceptional.’ — Paisley Randell, Artist & Filmmaker

‘Strong sign for humanity and human rights.’ — Vasco Kretschmann, Volksbund Art (11-14) - 2nd Place Your Soul by Xiyue Ma, China

Xiyue’s Inspiration:

The story took place in the First World War, and the hero inspired by chauvinism, threw himself into the so-called defense of his country with fervour of patriotism. In the course of four years of war, he witnessed the terrible toll of death, the physical and psychological destruction of men, and the inhumanity of war. The initial “patriotic fervour” was gone, leaving only physical pain and doubts about German militarism and the purpose of the war. The author uses realistic and symbolic methods to express her aversion to war and her yearning for peace. Art (11-14) - 3rd Place All I Have Left by Ashley Fish, New Zealand

Ashley’s Inspiration:

The 15th of March marks 10 years of living in a conflict zone for the Syrian children. For a decade they have suffered violence and been deprived of their basic rights. This painting is to shine a light on them. It is of a Syrian refugee girl hugging her father. Art (11-14) - Honourable Mention Despair by Katerina Masic, England

Judge’s Reflections:

‘It’s nice to see such an beautiful use of medium in sculptural format.’ — Cole Sternberg, Artist

‘It’s one of those artworks that speak for itself and captivates the viewer.’ — Vasko Stamboliev, Artist & NSI Young Ambassador

‘Very creative and thought-provoking use of physical mediums.’ — Vivian Huang, Freelance Artist Speech (11-14) - 1st Place Cultural Conflict by Bakirathe Thirukumaran, England

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen,

How would you feel if you were torn between two countries, with no sense of belonging to either one? Well, that’s the story of my life and many like me who are also Tamil descendants of parents displaced by the Sri Lankan Civil War. I am speaking to you today about how this conflict has had a direct impact on me. Collectively, as a people, Sri Lankan Tamils are going through a painful experience of statelessness, needing freedom politically. Personally, I am struggling to find my place in the two countries that I call ‘home’. Every time I visit Sri Lanka, I am treated like an outcast, almost like an intruder, but settled in Britain, I often find myself hiding my own culture in order to fit in.

The civil war that ended merely 12 years ago, was between the Sinhalese-dominated Sri Lankan government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam insurgent group which resulted in the island being gripped by a thirty-year brutal conflict, making Sri Lanka hold serious tensions within the two groups even today. Both ethnic groups are very interconnected however this resulted in each group fighting to reclaim their dignity and power, albeit at the expense of the other.

Both the Tamils and the Sinhalese have existed on the island for a very long time, as we can see from the early mythical history of Sri Lanka presented by the mythological texts of Ramayana and Mahavamsa; it is unfortunate that we are unable to currently find common ground today. Despite our historical differences over the years, the circumstances of the current war were clearly brought about by the post-colonial struggle.

But what caused this conflict to infringe upon and even erase Tamil culture and perspective from Sri Lankan history? Burning the Jaffna Library in 1981 destroyed priceless Tamil manuscripts and introducing acts like the Sinhala Only Act, in 1956, essentially made Sinhalese the official language of the country, erasing my mother tongue and the language of my heritage and my people. As a result of this and many other discriminations, the war between the two sides descended into brutal violence, in one example, the government’s forces murdered five Tamil students in the port city of Trincomalee on January 2nd 2006. Those students were my brothers and sisters. They were students just like me, and if I were born any earlier, I could just as easily have been one of them; one of the innocent casualties of this war. Continued Overleaf How has this impacted me? Will I ever be treated as a citizen in Sri Lanka when I go or will I continue to be treated as a tourist just like everyone else? And what about my place in the UK?

Going to a British school, I am almost prevented from wearing anything that reflects my heritage out of embarrassment, as other pupils point out how different I look when expressing my culture. I notice the strange glare that my own peers give me on the days when I wear sacred ash or a bindi to school because I need to sit an exam. It makes me feel like an outsider, unaccepted and unwelcome, as I am left feeling like I belong somewhere else but not knowing where. And for the same reason of embarrassment, the way Tamils celebrate culture in the UK compared to Sri Lanka also has its differences. Traditional outfits, wearing pottu and sarees are looked upon differently in open public spaces where we wear them for a short time among each other and then hide them away again once we’re finished. Whilst the UK is a welcoming place full of a diverse range of cultures, one can’t help but feel like a foreigner when people highlight how different you are.

Have Tamils ever had the freedom of expression or the freedom of liberty? Will we be heard if we stand up and protest against the Sinhalese-dominated government? In fact, the loss of freedom children of displaced victims feel is very similar to how the entire world has been impacted during this coronavirus pandemic. Being hit unexpectedly with severe restrictions, we were all forced into our homes, without the freedom of being able to do what we want. This is identical to how displaced victims of conflict feel. We are trapped in one place when we know there is a part of ourselves somewhere else. We are unable to fully explore our true identity. We are prohibited from expressing our culture further.

But, there is hope.

Although the future of Sri Lanka remains a mystery and the conflict has devolved into an ethnic issue, the country will remain haunted by larger structural issues within its government, even if the wounds caused by the Sri Lankan Civil war heal. However, a unified society in Sri Lanka could be a powerful tool for its future. The acceptance of Tamils within Sri Lanka, welcoming their cultural and spiritual beliefs and letting them have the freedom of expression and liberty that they are obliged to have, is also a positive direction forward.

But will this reality come to pass in my or my parents’ lifetime? Will I ever be able to stand on the peaceful shores of Sri Lanka and finally find my place? Only time will tell...

Listen to Bakirathe’s speech here Speech (11-14) - 2nd Place A Really Old Story by Eleni Sanozidou, Greece

When I was younger, my grandfather told me a story about my great-grandfather. It was an autumn morning in 1940 like all other mornings. Most of the village’s men were working at the fields. One of them was my great -grandfather Ananias. The village is a small village in north Kilkis in Greece. It is called Kato Theodoraki. The residents at the moment were about 1000.

Suddenly, while most of the men were having their break for their morning snack, the church bells started ringing. They were ringing low but very fast. That was happening every time there was a fire in the village or a big disaster. People of the village were running towards the square in front of the church. Women and men, children and people of any age were running scared.

Μouth to mouth the news was quickly spread. WAR! WAR! We have war! The war in Europe was on the news for weeks. And it came to us! Metaxas had denied the entrance of Italians in Greek land and the invasion of the Italian army in Greece was a matter of time. The mayor of the village announced mobilization. All males above 15 years old were to join the army. Only the old and disabled men were excluded. My great-grandfather was just 20 years old and had just married my great-grandmother Sofia. They were happy and had planned their lives but now they had to separate. Tears were running from my great-grandmother’s eyes. They hugged each other as if for the last time. They stared at each other and promised silently to overcome all the difficulties and to meet again.

And so they did! My great-grandfather Ananias fought on the mountains of North Epirus with a lot of courage. He ambushed the Italians and with his allies he won a lot of fights. He described the cold of that winter as the worst of all. The hunger, the tiredness, the fear. They fought with great might, but not all of them came back home. Some died, some were disabled. My great-grandfather came home intact and years after, he was honoured for being such a brave soldier. We have his medals framed on the wall of my grandfather’s, Abraham, living room to remember him. We are all so proud of him!

Listen to Eleni’s speech here Speech (11-14) - 3rd Place Art in the Time of Conflict by Rohini Bhattacharya, England

I’m sure you have all heard of Banksy, but do you know who the man behind the famous street art really is? No? You’re not alone, and that’s because Banksy’s anonymity is part of the reason why he is so appealing to the public’s conscience. He doesn’t do this as a publicity stunt or for a commercial purpose, but solely to start a movement, where art is appreciated for art itself, and not because it is linked to any famous artist.

I’m Rohini Bhattacharya and today I’m going to talk about one of Banksy’s most iconic pieces of street art: Rage, the Flower Thrower. When Banksy created this mural in 2005, on the 760km wall that divides Israel from Palestine, many onlookers did not want this artwork ‘ruining’ the wall, with one resident stating: ‘We do not want this wall to be beautiful, we do not want this wall, go home.’

The image depicts a Palestinian man wearing a black T-shirt and baseball cap, his face partially covered with a bandana, in the stance of hurling an object – maybe a rock or a Molotov cocktail – at the opposition. Instead, he is throwing a bouquet of flowers. These flowers are depicted in colour, most likely signifying peace and positivity in the faceof violence. There is also a juxtaposition of texture – with the flowers suggesting a warm and inviting feeling – whereas the stark black and white image of the man contrasts, with him wearing a furious and determined look. By painting on this wall, Banksy portrays the gritty reality to the observer, as it is located at the site of the conflict – The Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

This ongoing dispute started around the time the Ottoman Empire broke up as a result of WW1. Tensions grew after Britain took control of the Middle East and had the challenging task of ‘establishing a national home for Jewish people’. Palestinian Arabs opposed the idea as they believed it was their home and ancestral land.

Throughout the 1920s and into the 40s, the number of Jews grew dramatically in Palestine, due to many of them fleeing from the Holocaust and seeking refuge there. Violence between the Jews and the Arabs also grew at that time. In 1948, the British left having never resolved the conflict, and Jewish leaders declared the creation of the state of Israel. The Palestinian Arabs objected and soon war followed.

Continued Overleaf Another possible interpretation is that Banksy was inspired by the riots during a Pride parade in Jerusalem in 2005, where the marchers were attacked, and many were severely injured. The colourful flowers depicted may be an interpretation of the Pride flag and a way of supporting the LGBTQ+ community. They are a message for peace and tolerance, whether in war-torn countries or acceptance of sexual orientation in society.

I chose this piece of artwork because there are many different conflicts within it. One example is of the contrast in colour, which makes it more visually striking, and another is the fact that the rioter is holding flowers. This always draws the most questions as rioters connotate to negative emotions, such as hatred and vengeance, whereas flowers link to love, purity and peace. Artists have to carefully consider where they are painting, whether it’s on canvas or on a wall in Jerusalem. They have to consider ‘Is this really relevant to the content in the picture?’

We may not know much about Banksy, but we do know that he is a strong pacifist, and his work finds importance in turbulent areas; spreading peace when there is none. This links to the location of the graffiti, the dividing wall between Israel and Palestine. ‘The location itself is prominent to the message behind the image.’

So why did Banksy choose to replace the weapon with flowers of all things? It is believed that he drew inspiration from Judyth Hill’s poem ‘Wage Peace’, which was written after the 9/11 disaster in 2001. The poem calls for people to respond to the tragedy with a peaceful reaction, which is quite the opposite with the patriotic message that was so typical at that time.

There are many different ways to interpret Banksy’s art, and this effectively unites everyone together, regardless of their opinions. It is evident from this image, and all of his other work, that Banksy wants to make a statement against conflict, and for other issues faced by society, using his unique and striking style of art.

Listen to Rohini’s speech here Speech (11-14) - Honourable Mention Stolen by Violetta Dacre, New Zealand

“Do not get off this train until you reach Arnhem. Speak to no one. The housekeeper will meet you at the station. Be good for your mother and to your sister. I love you son”. His father pinned his name and address to his coat. As he put the boy on the train home from Germany to Holland the boy saw fear in his father’s face. Was it because his father had defended a Jewish boy who was being beaten in a city square or that the boy and his father had not raised their hands to salute and say “Heil Hitler’’ when the soldiers entered the barbershop. The boy would never know as he never saw his father again. Within seven years life had changed forever. He was an orphan. His sister was sent abroad to be fostered. His name is Johannes. This is his story.

He was eight years old when the war broke out. Germany occupied Holland. By 1944-45 there was a famine. This was called ‘the hunger winter’. The Dutch people were starving to feed the German military. There were many air battles over Holland. Life was spent running to bomb shelters. Johannes used to play on the streets with friends. Once a bomb dropped on the street close to Johannes and killed his friends. Trauma was part of daily life.

As the Allies planes would crash the boys would run through the fields to see if anyone was alive. Once Johannes found five dead pilots all with the fern emblem and the words New Zealand on their uniforms and he wondered why they had come so far from home to fight in this war. He watched the Germans bury these boys in a local cemetery.

There was a German-occupied manor home and Johannes would polish the boots of the German soldiers in return for food. The senior soldier had a Dutch girlfriend who was kind to Johannes. Johannes once found a jar of mouldy jam and ate it. The soldier found out and held a gun to his head for being a thief but he was starving. The Dutch lady defended him as he was a child. After the war, he defended her for being with the German soldier because she was also trying to survive.

His mother would feed her children her own rations and the seeds of copper beech trees so that they could eat. She got tuberculosis and died. A mother’s sacrifice.

His father’s body was found many years later in a mass grave in Belgium in an apple orchard, identified by his formica driver’s licence.

Continued Overleaf He and his sister went to live with their housekeeper as they had nowhere to go. After the war, Europe was in terrible debt so to aid recovery the United States introduced the Marshall Plan. It was very good financially, but it devastated Johannes as he was separated from his only living relative. Johannes was just of age to join the Dutch army. His sister was fostered to America. This caused significant psychological trauma to them both. They had lost everyone and then each other. They had no voice. Their story was not remarkable as so many other families were in the same position. Johannes didn’t see his sister again for nearly 30 years. By then, they had such different lives so it was harder to connect.

Johannes went to New Guinea with the army and at the end of his compulsory time he was asked where he wanted to go. He said “there is nothing left for me in Holland” so chose New Zealand remembering those brave dead pilots near his home and thought it must be safe in New Zealand. He later contacted their mothers.

He was a successful landscaper and built a windmill in his yard and planted fields of tulips. He has planted some of the most beautiful trees in Christchurch. They are his legacy to the country that has been kind to him.

He tells me he is shorter than he should be because he was starving and it permanently affected his height. He is a child of war, of government policy, a humanitarian crisis that affected a generation of children.

His name is Johannes. I call him John. He will be 90 years old this May. I am proud that he is my friend. He is a person who chooses to be happy despite all the sadness he has endured. We can all learn a lot from John.

Listen to Violetta’s speech here Song (11-14) - 1st Place Champion by Kedaton Campbell, California - United States

Calm down You have your mindset You can rest now And you’ll take a chance You’ve been working It’ll be perfect Your heart out Take a deep breath We will travel the world Once we’re past this Laying under the stars Climb every mountain Counting lost hearts Until we can touch the clouds You can let it all out Gonna get there No matter the prices You can travel the world Grab your trophy and go Once we’re past this Cause you’re a champion Hit the gravel Champion … Don’t worry Champion … You’ll get back up Champion … Gonna get there No matter the prices Hang up your white coat Grab your trophy and go Pull off your mask Cause you’re a champion Driving home Champion … You’ve finished your tasks Champion … Wash up your scrubs Champion … Hop in the tub And now relax Rest your head Cause you’re champion Tuck you into bed

Listen to ‘Champion’ here Song (11-14) - 2nd Place Daddy Come Home by Thomas Mattews, Emily Garner, Madison Broomhall, Marcia Shaw, Anthony Madden, Christopher Canon, Natan Wasilewski & Joseph Critchlow, England

Dad when you left If I was grown up I wondered how long you’d be I may not miss you so much I sat alone in my room But I’m fed up with all this fighting Ready to wait and see And I wish it would stop

I’d help mum round the house Chorus Help her make the tea But Dad deep down I miss you Things have not been the same And so does she Since your last letter came Mum sat down and told Chorus You may not write again When you come home Dad When all of the tanks and bombs are gone I really hope that she lied We’ll be wating just me and Mum at home Dad Cause I’m no good at goodbyes When you come home Dad So it’s time for you to come home now When you come home And stop Mummy crying

Daddy what is a war? Chorus Tell me what is it for? It sure must be important Cause you’re not here anymore

Listen to ‘Daddy Come Home’ here Song (11-14) - 3rd Place The Fight by Jack Maddock, England

Yo, as I step up to the mic, the soldiers are off to fight, what’s gonna happen now? Are we gonna die? I am in a lot of fright. They went to war …

This is the Fight, it will last to the night, they fought for our country, They kept us alive, they will survive because this is the fight, They flew in the air we were all in despair, but they lit up the night, This is the end, we won my friend, because this is the fight

We remember them with plants called poppies, they fought in bad weather like really foggy They were really scared but they didn’t care because they sacrificed They wanted to see their family, but some had to die...

This is the Fight, it will last to the night, they fought for our country, They kept us alive, they will survive because this is the fight, They flew in the air we were all in despair, but they lit up the night, This is the end, we won my friend, because this is the fight

People write poems about what happened and people made flyers and propaganda, We should remember them and what they do, and I just sang this song to you

This is the Fight, it will last to the night, they fought for our country, They kept us alive, they will survive because this is the fight, They flew in the air we were all in despair, but they lit up the night, This is the end, we won my friend, because this is the fight.

Listen to ‘The Fight’ here Competition Winners Ages 14-16 Poetry (14-16) - 1st Place French Embers by Faith Cunningham, England

Soft cotton wisps In burnt black fingertips; Tendons en feu

Crack of the whip on Muscles mutilés – like rain, Again and again

Hot iron presses Into dark shivering skin, Wet sweat en suée

Field of hollow stalks Of withering white cotton La verité de France

Glossary:

En feu = On fire Muscles mutilés = Mangled muscles En suée = Into steam La verité de la France = The Truth of France

Faith’s Inspiration:

In the poem French Embers, I have contrasted soft, romantic French language with the harsh, visceral reality of slavery. This poem is made up of 4 haikus, usually about the beauty of nature. In this case, these haikus show the unnaturalness and ugliness of slavery. The cruel dehumanisation of these black people by the French is often forgotten but:

‘From 1721-30, French ships took 85,000 enslaved Africans to the plantations in the Americas and the Caribbean. Even after France abolished the trade, 500 French ships continued slave trading illegally between 1818 and 1831.’ Poetry (14-16) - 2nd Place Change Channel by Caitlin Pyper, England

You are being stolen, Voices imbued by a national anthem; Out into the night They bay like mad dogs- With a bag around your head, They want you gone. And a gun to your back. A rock hurtles upwards. You are being dragged between Sky scraping trees Change Channel And whispering streams To a place of only silence, You are considering a man, who, Where you will marry a man With machete in hand, Without a face. Slaughtered your husband and daughter And son. Change Channel He is pleading innocence- But his guilt leaks from his eyes You are clutching your child And drips over his skin. Like a second heart To your chest. Later, a reporter with a red face Your second heart is sobbing Ambles over to speak with you. A slow and rhythmic beat, The microphone hovering close, In time with the shaking earth You begin to speak. And exploding sky. You look at me… Too late.

Change Channel My dad has changed the channel. Bake Off is on, You stand framed in a smashed window, And you are already Your hijab like a halo around you. Forgotten. People shout from below,

Judge’s Reflections:

‘In a manner reminiscent of the poetry of Siegfried Sassoon, a hammer-blow final stanza reveals the appalling truth the poem exposes — that we in the western world can turn off our awareness of suffering as we might turn off a TV, and our values have sunk to a level whereby a cheap TV programme is more important to us than the suffering of untold thousands of people. ‘Change Channel’ is a quietly forceful condemnation of a culture that makes cheap pleasure more valuable than humanity.’ — Martin Stephen, Author & NSI Trustee Poetry (14-16) - 3rd Place Cruel Comfort by Goh Li Lian, Malaysia

Deep within the flourishing green jungles of Malaya, She bites into the luscious mangoes and bananas—oh, they are so ripe! But… Her ears nab the distant piercing screams—and gunfire—and explosions— They’re coming, she knows it, she hugs her dear mama one final time, They’ve stolen sister, now they want more girls, they’re ravenous, she knows it, And off she sprints and runs, fleeing into the hills…but glimpses darkness…

She’s in a truck, the engine chugs thunderously, raucous men laughter fleets, She squints, she sees girls weeping around her, She does not weep, she must not weep, Mama said she “Must Be Strong”.

The truck skids dead, they clamber down in a tight huddle, her head throbs from the blow, the blow that charged her into this nightmare, she grits her teeth. Japanese men, clad in soldier wear, their eyes carnivorous with malice.

Into the rattan hut they go, human heads hang loosely in the doorway, she gulps, “My head is mine to keep!” … Blood, sweat, tears, she smells. Mattresses on the floor, girls stripped bare of clothing, the moans of cruel men.

And thus, the first round of scarring her pride. Mama said to squeeze her eyes shut, and it would all be over in a blink of an eye, But it wasn’t really a blink of an eye, but she never fought back, because “My head is mine to keep!”

Every day they heartlessly hit her, agonizingly penetrate her, but she endures it, Her friends die one by one, from a disease, she knows she must live on, And there were a few abortions, babies she could not keep.

On a miraculous day, the Americans, they have come for the rescue! Her woes of hope, her dreams! They have come true!

Continued Overleaf She tears back to her mangoes and bananas, to her little hut to find dear mama, “Where is she? Where’s she gone?” “Mama’s dead, now get out of my house!” “But… no! Papa, why…?” She wept for the first time in years, four years of gore, four years of torture at the mercy of ruthless men, at that gruesome hut of a comfort station, and now she was disowned, because, she was a “disgrace”.

She could not believe it, and she ran into the flowing river, and sank into...

Goh’s Inspiration:

Throughout the rule of the Imperial Japanese Army during World War II, women and young girls were abducted from their conquered territories and forced into sexual slavery by the Japanese soldiers—and what shocked me the most was that, these comfort women had to serve over 40 soldiers each day, leading to excruciating agony in their lower body parts. They were separated into different compartments, each comfort woman occupying one, and soldiers would line up outside every day awaiting their turns. When the world war ended, those who managed to survive were not welcomed back into their families. Instead, they were seen as a disgrace, and were most unfortunately shunned away from their homes. The injustice shown to these comfort women outrages me beyond words, and I hope to be the voice for their voicelessness through this poem.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘Cruel Comfort deals with very difficult subject matter in an extremely mature, skilled and sensitive way. By using the close third person perspective the poem brings the reader directly in to the subject’s experience and allows us to really feel the distress and horror the young girl is going through. The poem opens with images of sweet fruit and the lush green of the Malaysian jungle, the subject’s home luring us into a false sense of comfort, as the subject herself is lured into. A cruel comfort as the title suggests. The repetition of the word ‘she’ in the second verse is so effective, insistent, like a musical thrumming in the head. Incorporating the subject’s own voice into the narrative, particularly the repeated cry of ‘My head is mine to keep!’ made the piece especially powerful, haunting and memorable. The father’s rejection at the end is a real punch to the gut, so deftly and powerfully done and the final line, devastating. The poet says in their own commentary about the poem, ‘The injustice shown to these comfort women outrages me beyond words, and I hope to be the voice for their voicelessness through this poem.’ The poem achieves this most stupendously and the poet must be congratulated for having written such a powerful and important poem.’ — Cheryl Moskowitz,Poet, Educator & Writer Poetry (14-16) - Honourable Mention Violet by Elsie Hayward, England

You are the reason My grandmother was named For a carthorse.

Which makes me think

How funny it must have been In a cosy, cottage Small village sort of way. They thought you picked Violet Like a bloom to lay at her cradle, A pretty gift, plucked With images of buds busting In purple song, And her pretty face.

Which makes me think

Of the kind of love You must have whispered In that horse’s mane- The original Violet, A hardy working girl- Or perhaps that’s just films.

Which makes me think

Of a simple country lad Smiling, muddy, windswept, Not the serious face in the photograph, All grown-up black and white. Not of the uniform.

Continued Overleaf Which makes me think

Of hilltop views And staring cows And woodland paths And loving an animal; The speechless love Of the brown warmth That takes you in unjudgingly, Nuzzling noses, sympathetic snorts. These are things I know.

Which makes me think

Of my own brother, Who knows these things too, Who walks the walks with me. Of whether you walked with Granny, Hand-clasped, lifting over stiles, Pointing out villages like constellations.

Of how that shouldn’t lead To the bomber plane, The mad story of capture And escape, The fear and bullets and falling, And things I don’t know.

Elsie’s Inspiration:

This poem is about a story my mother told me about my Great Uncle Brian. He served as a rear gunner on a bomber plane during the Second World War having lied about his age, at a time when life expectancy in that job was four weeks. He survived being held in a prisoner of war camp. I never met him, but I’ve seen a black and white picture of him in uniform beside my grandmother, his little sister. My mother told me it was left to him to pick Granny’s middle name, and he was set upon Violet. Charmed by his choice, the family didn’t know it came from his devotion to the carthorse on the next-door farm that had the same name. Art (14-16) - 1st Place The Dead No Longer Conflict by Egor Strashko, Russia

Judge’s Reflections:

‘Simply a beautiful artwork rich in imagination and meaning.’ — Vivian Huang, Freelance Artist

‘Stunning painting work. Concept is extremely strong and it is executed beautifully.’ — Paisley Randell, Artist & Filmmaker Art (14-16) - 2nd Place Bowdlerization by Miranda Blell, North Carolina - United States

Miranda’s Inspiration:

My artwork attempts to capture censorship, one of the most pressing issues in modern diplomacy, and how it often coincides with human rights violations. In China, citizens are bowdlerized, and are unable to comment against the government’s obstruction of civil liberties, especially the atrocities occurring against Uyghur Muslims. It is currently estimated that approximately one million Uyghurs are being held in internment camps in Xinjiang where they are effectively blockaded from the rest of the world. The Chinese government dubs these arbitrary encampments “Vocational Education and Training Centers,” although inmates, including children, are subjugated to forced labor. Art (14-16) - 3rd Place Pain(t)full Legacy by Mara Ghițescu, Romania

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This piece uses the combination of grayscale and color in a dramatic manner, catching the eye and leaving one wondering.’ — Cole Sternberg, Artist

‘Disturbing, profound. Accurate work.’ — Vasco Kretschmann, Volksbund Art (14-16) - Honourable Mention Tangled by Kyeongwon Lee, Jonathan Lee, Angelita Marcelino, Iris Tsai, Makaila Kim & Teresa Tao, California - United States

Inspiration:

In the time of COVID-19, concerns fill everyone’s heads as they navigate their way through the global slump. These concerns turn into internal conflict that people hide, and keep to themselves during these tough times. As our group consists of high schoolers, we decided to portray a group of students with wires coming out of their heads to represent their thoughts, which jumble together in a mix of common, but unheard stories, and placed words around as keywords to the many buried worries and troubles of teens. Even though everyone has specific worries, many students fall into the well of concerns that consume them. They all hold stories they bury deep in themselves and mask with a smile to seem alright. We tried to bring forth these stories that the students would be experiencing and display the concerns of high schoolers. Speech (14-16) - 1st Place Rio Negro by Daniela Morales, Guatemala

Not many will ever know this, Rio Negro, Guatemala; my hometown. Between 1980 and 1982. I saw everything! Something I wish no one to ever see.

I was playing outside, waiting for my mom to call me back for dinner; running along the riverside with my stuffed animal, Taty. She was a blue bunny that my aunt had given me when she went to the city. I heard a sound. It was loud and deep. I hadn’t heard it before, not even when I saw the bus crash in town. I ran back home, calling my mother. I didn’t know why, but I was scared.

I got to the house. That was the moment… the terrible moment my world fell apart. I didn’t have time to figure out what I saw. A pair of giant black boots appeared before my eyes. “He must be important, I had never seen such shine in a pair of shoes.” I remember I thought. The man was tall, he was wearing a green suit, he was carrying what I then learned was called a gun. He pulled me away.

My father, uncle, older brother were being beaten to death along with the other men. They were finally shot and then left to die, agonizing in pain until death.

What happened to my mom is something I rather not talk about. I will just say, no woman should go through that. Fear and a feeling of hopelessness is all I can recall.

On that day, I met evil face to face. I wasn’t able to tell anyone what I saw. The best thing I could do was stay quiet and move on. You can only imagine what moving on was like for a child that was scared to death.

I wasn’t alone, there were hundreds of children like me; humiliated, abused and suffering many horrible things. Children with no future, no education, no love, no family, and no hope. Children like any other child who wants to play, eat, learn and sleep in a warm bed.

This is my story; the one I was never able to talk about.

Continued Overleaf If you ever hear rumors about the armed conflict in Guatemala being a total lie or exaggeration, I hope you read this!

If you ever think of supporting conflict in any way, I hope you read this!

If you ever have the chance to speak out for victims like us, I hope you read this!

If you can read this, feel happy you went to school, be happy you are alive, be happy you weren’t a minority community in Guatemala during the armed conflict. Be happy you had a chance!

Listen to Daniela’s speech here Speech (14-16) - 2nd Place The Faces of Poverty in Latin America and the Caribbean by Victor Ferrara, Panama Greek philosopher Aristotle stated thousands of years ago: “Poverty is the mother of crime and revolution”. These words still hold true in modern society and they are the reality of billions of people. According to the World Bank, around 44% of the worldwide population lives on less than USD5.50 a day.

In addition, the World Bank states that: “Poverty is pronounced deprivation in well-being and comprises many dimensions.” This situation can be seen all around the world. Regions like Latin America and the Caribbean are prime examples of these issues of poverty.

In my own country, Panama, tens of thousands cannot afford food, clothes, or education. They sometimes lack even the basic infrastructure necessary to have plumbing or electricity, and a roof over their heads. In some rural areas, children have to walk miles on foot to receive some type of basic education.

The sad truth is, being impoverished makes it hard to not only live, but to be able to have decent opportunities of self-improvement. For example, if you cannot afford a proper education, you will not be able to get a good job. This creates a feedback loop that will not allow you to make it through that tough situation. As a result, impoverished populations have unequal opportunities. This lack of education can also be accredited as one of the biggest causes of poverty in Latin America and the Caribbean. Education has, historically, been extremely difficult to obtain, to the point where it is estimated that around 23 million children, mostly located in rural areas, are not enrolled in formal education. Additionally, Latin America and the Caribbean are the regions with the second biggest crime per capita rate in the world. This is not a coincidence, as the poverty index has a very deep relation to the crime index, because poverty tends to provoke crime.

As previously mentioned, poverty is the deprivation of well-being, meaning that impoverished individuals will have incentives to live through any means necessary, causing some to turn to crime because they are desperate to survive. This then creates societal unrest which is detrimental to all inhabitants regardless of socio-economic status. Some countries, like Mexico, Colombia, Haiti, and Venezuela, have really dangerous situations. Some of them have private militias or mafias fighting the local authorities. Crime, kidnapping and drug trafficking run rampant. Continued Overleaf All of these issues are also caused by socio-economic problems and poverty. Some of these children in these areas seek to become part of a gang because of the influences of people around them who have had to adapt to extreme poverty and resort to crime. Were they able to afford a good education, they would not have the need to commit crimes or join gangs to be able to eat.

As a society, it should be our duty to help our people. Volunteering or donating to food banks and other non-governmental organizations that help local communities or specific regions worldwide are great ways to help. These organizations do really good work. They can have greater reach and more specific ways of helping than some government- run programs. Their impact has been really improving the situation in certain regions. In addition, the United Nations (UN) and its many branches have also helped massively—and, although sometimes controversial, like the incidents that happened in Haiti back in 2007— international cooperation is necessary if we are to help these regions. We also need to keep in mind that if we were to eliminate poverty, many issues would improve, or be outright solved.

If people did not have to spend their time fighting to survive or eat, they could spend their time helping their communities and society as a whole; they could spend time educating themselves, which can lead them to getting jobs, improving economies, or promoting scientific, medical and technological development. This means we have a selfish reason to help these communities, which can become incentives to some individuals who may not care about the humanitarian aspect of this situation.

Like most modern social issues, poverty cannot be solved with the wave of a magic wand. It requires high amounts of work, people, and resources. We must all come together and help, as the voices of those who suffer are often unheard by others.

Listen to Victor’s speech here Speech (14-16) - 3rd Place We Need Unity by Narmada Bharathi, Sri Lanka One day I heard our class teacher saying that we have a peaceful and happy childhood than them. We were puzzled. Why? We asked from our teachers. And then we came to know that our teachers had to face a hard time during their childhood because of the three decade war in our country. Many innocent people lost their lives. Some of the Sinhala people blamed the Tamils, and some of the Tamil people blamed the Sinhalese. Bombs were blasted in various places around the country including religious places like the temple of the tooth. (Dalada Maligawa).

When the LTTE was defeated our country was not the same. Many people had lost their lives, families, homes and money. Many were wounded and they continued to live in fear because they could not forget those terrible things like bomb blasts, the sounds of gunshots and the cries of the wounded and dying people.

Somehow in the end it was the children who suffered the most. Children from both sides lost their happiness and freedom. Most of them became orphans and they had to live in camps. Many children suffered from shock and psychological problems. Innocent children lost their lives because of mines in border villages. Most children lost their education because many people left their villages to hide in the forests.

When the war ended some of the Sinhalese and Tamil people considered each other as enemies. Even though these people were friends and lived with unity for many years before the war began. And sadly even now I see many Sinhalese people who are either afraid or does not like to speak or associate with Tamils. And it’s the same the other way.

Last year after the Easter Sunday attack, we saw this appearing again. The other people blamed the Muslims. They stopped going to Muslim shops and stopped speaking with them. My Muslim friends were bullied by the other children. And this is the same when we speak about the past. What’s the point of attacking innocent people? You cannot give life to the people who died by not associating with people of other religions. The Sinhalese, Tamils, Muslims and burgers in our country have stopped believing each other as a result of this conflict. You cannot give life to your loved ones or cure the wounds created by conflicts by fighting with each other.

( Nahi werena verani) “hatred is indeed never appeased by hatred, in this world. It is appeased only by loving kindness.” Listen to Narmada’s speech here Speech (14-16) - Honourable Mention The Unheard Voices, Stories from Around the World. by Gwyneth Nicole Pérez Acuña, Nicaragua

Saludos mi nombre es Gwyneth Nicole Pérez Acuña, es para mí un honor hablarles de esta historia que es nuestra como nicaragüense. En el año 2018 Nicaragua, comienza protestas contra la dictadura del actual presidente Daniel Ortega. Durante la crisis que atravesaba Nicaragua, fueron perjudicados miles de familias. La tensión que vivíamos era horrible, constantemente se escuchaban morteros, disparos, y por lo menos cada noche fallecía alguien, en lo personal llegue de sufrir de ansiedad, constantemente vivía en la preocupación y también el hecho de saber que personas daban sus vidas por la libertad de mi país y ser consciente que no soy capaz de hacer nada.

Sin embargo, el hecho de ser menor de edad, no me impida alzar la voz por mi país. En ese mismo año en junio, mi familia sufría de problemas económicos, tenemos un restaurante familiar, en este ayudábamos a las gentes que no tenían comida. Sin embargo, las deudas afectaban muchos. Mi mamá una mujer muy trabajadora desde pequeña, decide migrar con mi hermano de 6 años, mi hermana de 3 años y yo con la edad de 13 en ese tiempo, a Costa Rica para oportunidades de trabajo y ayudar a mi familia desde Costa rica con dinero. Para llegar a la frontera tuvimos que pedir ride.

Llegando una vez allá, caminamos aproximadamente 1km dónde el camino era de lodo, y era demasiado difícil caminar, luego de caminar llegamos al muro, dónde lo cruzamos con la ayuda de unos jóvenes. Mientras íbamos cruzando mi mente estaba llena de preocupaciones el saber que dejo mucho en mi país y con lágrimas mi mamá me decía que nos apuramos a cruzar. Fuimos a las oficinas para solicitar asilo, recuerdo exactamente que había miles de familias el cuál conocimos y nos compartieron sus historias, de cómo perdieron sus familiares y casas.

Estuvimos ahí aproximadamente unas 6 horas, luego de muchas preguntas, nos concedieron el asilo en el país. Nos hospedamos en la casa de una madrina, en ese tiempo cuándo llegamos mucha gente de costa rica, no nos aceptaba y no hacía malos gestos. Para mis hermanos fue difícil ya que no se adaptaban, mi mamá salía a buscar oportunidades de trabajos, pero no consiguió nada. Luego de unos 15 días mi madre por petición de mi abuela con preocupación, de que nos pasará algo, regresamos a Nicaragua. Nos fuimos en autobús, cuándo llegábamos a la frontera de Nicaragua no teníamos dinero y gracias a Dios una señora nos ayudó.

Nos cruzamos de nuevo ilegalmente, pero llegando a Nicaragua en mi ciudad era un campo de guerra, gente corriendo, gritos, personas heridas y muertas, las calles llenas de barricadas, para llegar a mi ciudad llamada Masaya era imposible. Continued Overleaf Gracias a Dios unos conocidos nos abrieron las puertas de su casa para quedarnos. Al día siguiente partimos hacia mi ciudad en el cuál la policía ya había tomado todo el lugar, el cual se le dominó operación limpieza. Gracias a Dios fuimos capaces de llegar a salvo. Esta no es mi historia, sino que de muchos nicaragüenses y migrantes alrededor del mundo que han vivido lo mismo, eh incluso peores situaciones.

Durante la situación que si vivía fuimos capaces de todos unirnos como hermanos, apoyándonos unos a otros, el cual jóvenes universitarios, entre toda la población nicaragüenses pelean por nuestro país, como resultado promoviendo lideres prometedores para un futuro mejor en Nicaragua. En lo personal muchos de estas personas y la historia que hemos hecho en Nicaragua ha influido en mí, dejándome claro que quiero promover a hacer cambios en mi país y en los demás del mundo, para el beneficio de todos siendo capaz de satisfacer las necesidades y combatir los distintos problemas sociales sin diferencia alguna, en cultura, color de piel, religión, nacionalidad.

Unidos todos somos capaces de hacer el cambio para un mundo mejor. En el presente, es mi país, pero nunca sabremos los que nos espera en el futuro, mañana podría ser otro país, y sumándose en ellas miles de familias perjudicadas. Gracias por escucharme.

Greetings, my name is Gwyneth Nicole Pérez Acuña, it is an honor for me to tell you about this story that is ours as a Nicaraguan. In 2018 Nicaragua began protests against the dictatorship of the current president Daniel Ortega. During the crisis that Nicaragua was going through, thousands of families were harmed. The tension we were experiencing was horrible, mortars and shots were constantly being heard, and at least every night someone died, personally I came to suffer from anxiety, I constantly lived in worry and also the fact of knowing that people gave their lives for the freedom from my country and being aware that I am not capable of doing anything.

However, the fact of being a minor does not prevent me from raising my voice for my country. In that same year in June, my family suffered from financial problems, we have a family restaurant, in this we helped people who did not have food. However, debts affected many. My mother, a hard-working woman since she was little, decides to migrate with my 6-year-old brother, my 3-year-old sister and I at the age of 13 at that time, to Costa Rica for job opportunities and to help my family from Costa Rica with money. To get to the border we had to ask for a ride.

Once arriving there, we walked approximately 1km where the road was muddy, and it was too difficult to walk, after walking we reached the wall, where we crossed it with the help of some young people. While we were crossing my mind was full of worries knowing that I left a lot in my country and with tears my mother told me that we hurried to cross. We went to the offices to request asylum, I remember exactly that there were thousands of families whom we met and they shared their stories with us, of how they lost their relatives and homes. Continued Overleaf We were there for approximately 6 hours, after many questions, we were granted asylum in the country. We stayed in the house of a godmother, at that time when many people from Costa Rica arrived, they did not accept us. For my brothers it was difficult because they did not adapt, my mother went out to look for job opportunities, but she did not get anything. After about 15 days my mother, at the request of my grandmother with concern, that something will happen to us, we returned to Nicaragua. We went by bus, when we got to the Nicaraguan border we had no money and thank God a lady helped us.

We crossed paths again illegally, but arriving in Nicaragua in my city it was a war field, people running, screaming, people injured and dead, the streets full of barricades, to get to my city called Masaya was impossible. Thank God some acquaintances opened the doors of their house for us to stay. The next day we left for my city in which the police had already taken over the whole place, which was dominated by cleaning operation. Thank God we were able to get there safely. This is not my story, but that of many Nicaraguans and migrants around the world who have experienced the same, and even worse situations.

During the situation that if he lived we were able to all unite as brothers, supporting each other, which young university students, among the entire Nicaraguan population, fight for our country, as a result promoting promising leaders for a better future in Nicaragua. Personally, many of these people and the history that we have in Nicaragua has influenced me, making it clear that I want to promote changes in my country and in the rest of the world, for the benefit of all, being able to satisfy the needs and combat different social problems without any difference, in culture, skin color, religion, nationality.

United we are all capable of making the change for a better world. At present, it is my country, but we will never know what awaits us in the future, tomorrow it could be another country, and thousands of damaged families joining them. Thanks for listening to me.

Listen to Gwyneth’s speech here Song (14-16) - 1st Place Fearless by Rashi Rajeev, India Who knew that I could be Living a life so meaningless So much more Laboring hopeless Than how others see Of getting any respect it was time to An Indian woman Gain our freedom. Of 1857. Even if a courtesan An Independent I dressed like a soldier and came riding on a horse Dancer that could bring heaven out there battled along where To you. The war took place. I changed my life Of flowers to blood as People would be all speechless I was so fearless (so fearless) By my seamless Performances. They’d be pulled On one side To me and confide like real friends, Were Britishers Lured by my sweetness. Ruling our country with all authority Little did they know that my court On other side Was filled with arms Were Soldiers That behind my charms United with the freedom fighters and me Was a freedom fighter spying with all It was time to be The risks that could make one helpless But I was fearless (was fearless) Fearless, Fearless, Fearless, Fearless On one side Were Britishers Lost so much in life but Ruling our country with all authority I would still fight not On other side Break oh not so soon. Even if Were Soldiers My sacrifice is forgotten United with the freedom fighters and me I now wish for nothing It was time to be Except to be free .....

Fearless, Fearless, Fearless, Fearless On one side Were Britishers Being a courtesan Ruling our country with all authority I would transfer On other side Messages one by one Were Soldiers To our team of revolt United with the freedom fighters and me With aims high. It was time to be It was now time For us to fight Fearless, Fearless, Fearless, Fearless Cause enough of Continued Overleaf Inspiration:

This song is dedicated to Ajijan Bai’s real-life story, a woman freedom fighter who had actively participated in the Indian Rebellion of 1857. This piece is a tribute to the fearlessness shown by her in the struggle for freedom of her country.

Listen to ’Fearless’ here Song (14-16) - 2nd Place Let Me Fly Away Music by Antonios Panagiotis Atzemis, Lyrics by Stavroula Alexiou & Elisabeth Kaltsou, Greece

Κάθε μέρα βρίσκομαι σε μία βάρκα παλεύοντας με τα κύματα. Τώρα πια το μόνο που θέλω είναι να δούμε στεριά, να πατήσω ξανά στη γη. Όμως η γη που θα πατήσω θέλω να είναι φιλόξενη να μας δεχτούν όπως αρμόζει στην κατάσταση, σαν ανθρώπους, με αξιοπρέπεια και σεβασμό.

Every day I am in a boat fighting with the waves. Now all I want is to see land, to step on the ground again. But the land I will tread I want to be hospitable to be accepted as befits the situation, as people, with dignity and respect.

I know, that I’m not strong enough to go I can’t, I’ll collapse once and for all I grew inside of war In the misery of the world

I feel the pain inside my head Just let me fly away I saw my people dying there Oh, let my fly away I lost my parents and I feel so alone Moved to another place but I don’t feel safe at all Look at me as I walk Have I done something wrong? I really can’t know.

It’s us, it’s us against the sea from now and on It’s us, it’s us fighting in a cruel world The sea is way too cold And I am not that strong

Another battle, another war Just let me fly away Will I ever go back, oh no Continued Overleaf Just let me fly away Miss my friends, my school, my home What did I do wrong? Surrounded by many But I feel so alone

What did I do so wrong? Oh, why am I here by my own?

Έτσι, βρέθηκα σε ένα λιμάνι, ένα κομμάτι ξηράς. Δεν θυμάμαι περισσότερα, ούτε χρειάζεται, ούτε θέλω. Αποχαιρετώ το νερό και τρέχω προς την πλατεία της περιοχής. Μια καινούργια ζωή αρχίζει, το νιώθω. Σαν τον φοίνικα που αναγεννιέται από τις στάχτες του, έτσι κι εγώ τώρα ξεκινάω ξανά από την αρχή. Τίποτα δεν θα είναι πια το ίδιο.

So, I found myself in a port, a piece of land. I do not remember more, neither need nor want. I say goodbye to the water and run to the square of the area. A new life begins, I feel it. Like the palm tree that is reborn from its ashes, so now I am starting again from the beginning. Nothing will be the same anymore.

Inspiration:

Millions of people were forced to leave their countries due to war or any kind of violence during the last five years. Among them, half were children. The image of these children has become familiar to us, as thousands of people have crossed the shores of the Aegean Sea seeking safety in Europe. We had the chance to watch some photos, videos and documentary films about young refugees. What shocked us most, was the huge number of unaccompanied children. And what inspired us most to write the music and the lyrics of our song, was Monologues across the Aegean Sea - The journey and dreams of unaccompanied refugee children, an e-book created by the Hellenic Theatre/Drama & Education Network. We really hope that our melodies will give a new “voice” to these young refugees’ personal narratives revealing their thoughts, hopes and wishes.

Listen to ‘Let Me Fly Away’ here Song (14-16) - 3rd Place Hey My World! by Krittika Garg, India

Hey my world! You see those people, who won in the war, Hey my world! But what about my father, who couldn’t find a way back...

I fought a war too, from when I was young, Struggling to find my father, from when I found the world, Struggling to find what’s mine, in this alien-land, Struggling, struggling, struggling, I’m still struggling...

Then when I grew up, I found my allies with their fathers, But I was alone, And what about a child who couldn’t see his father...

I came to know, that my father is a soldier, Serving the country and its people, from the dreadful foes... I was proud of him, and I smiled again, Keeping all the past suppressed in me, suppressed in me, suppressed in me...

Then came the war, And father bravely fought, Ten days of war, And he fought like a demigod...

He laid there still, his chest pierced with thousands of bullets, Just still; while people mocked at him that he is a coward, Hey my world! He is not a coward, He is not a coward, Hey my world! Though he lost the war, he is still the bravest of all...

Listen to ‘Hey My World!’ here Competition Winners Ages 16-18 Poetry (16-18) - 1st Place Hibakusha by Catalina Taylor, France The word shackles her ankles, crawling up the keloid scars and rough patches of skin to scrawl itself over her face. Hibakusha.

Roaring out of the past, a white flash and mushroom cloud of fire swells over the horizon. She remembers walking over

the bodies melting into the debris, blackened shadows on the concrete howling a desperate plea for water.

Three days later, they found her father’s buckle among his bones. She buried him alone - her mother turned to ash in the sky.

Now, clutching her fiancé’s hand, she feels a family slip away once more. His parents remember the bomb

and shy away from her Devil’s blood, shaking their heads and pressing images of children with stumps for arms

into their son’s brain. Hibakusha. She reaches up a hand to trace his cheekbone in reassurance, but he has turned cold.

So, unlocking their fingers, she drops the ring into his palm, tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and turns towards a future as dust-clouded as the past:

Hibakusha. A nickname she will never outgrow.

Continued Overleaf Catalina’s Inspiration:

Inspiration for the poem: I decided to focus on the American atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 after reading articles surrounding the 75th anniversary of VJ day. While researching the events and reading survivor testimonies, I was shocked not only by the immediate devastation wrought on the cities and their inhabitants, but also by the lasting physical and psychological effects on survivors. This poem combines elements of several true stories and addresses the stigma surrounding a ‘Hibakusha’, or atomic bomb survivor. I was struck by the injustice that after watching people die in ghastly ways, losing homes and family members, and themselves suffering from radiation poisoning, the victims of the nuclear weapon attacks were feared, shunned, and - very often - silenced.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This poem was thoroughly deserving of first place in a highly competitive group of submissions. At once beautiful, powerful and dark, Hibakusha conveys the horrific devastation wrought by the atomic bombs dropped on Japan, personalising them to a young girl who loses her family. The girl survives as a lone, scarred outcast: a Hibakusha. Shunned by society and denied the universal need for love and comfort, the Hibakusha’s story reminds us that for many who experience them, wars never end.’ — Major Barry Alexander, Veteran, Poet & Author

‘Every time I read Hibakusha I find it a deeply moving poem which sheds light on this dark, little known aftermath of the 1945 atomic bomb. The talented young poet handled both her material and her use of language skilfully, drawing the reader in, weaving a human story and leaving them feeling outraged. Using ‘nickname’ at the end was a master stroke. A thought-provoking reminder that once the guns stop firing and the bombs cease falling, the physical and emotional suffering continues. This is a poetic voice worth listening to.’ — Dr Vivien Newman, Historian, Author & Researcher Poetry (16-18) - 2nd Place Terrier at War by Phoebe Webb, England

She was born in a trench, lick-black, shell-furled, And these boys’ blistered hands are all she’s known; Their coarse, hoarse, cooing voices: Good girl, sweet girl, pretty little thing. They fondle her ears; she suckles from their fingers, thick, condensed milk. She drowses against their chests, sharing flees, Their hearts keeping rhythm with the beating shells.

She runs in her trench, grizzle-brown, wind-footed, Snarling at flocks of rats that flutter in her footsteps, And these boys’ faces grin for her: Good girl, sweet girl, pretty little thing. These gaunt skeletons, these shuffling, rotting-footed ghosts laugh for her. She keeps watch by their side, blinking up, Swimming in a star-stretched sky.

She flies over the top, mud-streaked, spittle-mouthed, And these boys’ prayers fly fast in her footsteps; Their blood-flecked, starving whispers: Good girl, sweet girl, pretty little thing. The message strapped to her thigh, a silver-bullet-in-potential. Their spirits are at her tail, crying out, Please, God, somebody save us.

She crawls back to her trench, bloody-mouthed, And these boys find her. Their blistered hands fondle her bullet-torn ears, And she suckles from their fingers, hard-won, golden drops of whiskey. Their wavering smiles flicker in her vision, Their broken voices coo for her one last time: Good girl, sweet girl, pretty little thing.

Is she going?

No, son. She’s gone. Phoebe’s Inspiration:

I was inspired by the messenger dogs used in WWI to carry dispatches between trenches, as well as the rat-catching dogs that formed close bonds with the men – and far too many boys – of the trench regiments.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘One of the best things about judging is having the opportunity of reading things that surprise me. I love it when I read something I would never have thought of and I absolutely love Terrier At War. The idea is brilliant and you’ve made that idea into a poignant and emotional poem. Perfect use of language and the tone is absolutely spot on. I wish I’d have written it.’ — Nik Perring, Author & NSI Practitioner

‘Wow, how can so much emotion come from a poem? This poem is superb. Its first verse asks a lot of questions, which are simply answered in the second verse and draw the reader into the rest of the poem and finally to heartbreak. I am amazed at how cleverly this poem is written and would encourage the writer of this poem to continue writing such poems. There is so much skill and talent on display in this work of art, that could clearly lead to a rewarding life writing such wonderful poems. Congratulations!’ — Clive Sanders, NSI Poet in Residence Poetry (16-18) - 3rd Place Yemen by Maureen Onwunali, England

I know this food for thought will not fill the vacant bellies nor will these metaphors cling on to bones like meat. My thoughts and prayers seem to be getting stopped at the border Or maybe My amens have unravelled during the way. When a nation seeks refuge in a hashtag, Our tongues become punctured from the sharp edges of each criss-cross shaped crisis

Your hunger is felt We hear each infant’s rumble shake our sky But we call it thunder. We see your blood on our government’s hands But we call it business. I know the monster that is Capitalism I’ve seen it take food out of children’s mouths and bury mothers underneath its tongue. I know what type of beast can sell arms to a nation but cannot give a hand to its people. We have become so comfortable in our own ignorance. Knowing that we have failed Yemen Like a test we keep resitting but always getting the same answers wrong - It’s been 5 years

Educate yourself And try again Poetry (16-18) - Honourable Mention Children of the Dust by Grace Wong, California - United States

Children of the Dust Perhaps you’ve seen the picture– naked children flaming clothes torn off running for their lives mouths open screaming wind stinging napalm-burnt skin sticky sky bearing down

These are the children born of war: born of gunpowder, flames, pain, fear (& love and sacrifice for some)

Born of dust They are bụi đời, leftovers discarded in the jungle to be hidden away or swept off by the wind America their father, Vietnam their mother Shunned as half-breeds, children of the enemy, Accepted by neither side Claimed only by the dust

Dust– begotten from death Men who came & loved & fought & died leave behind a legacy of dust From dust we come, to dust we will return

Continued Overleaf Yet dust is resilient– Swept across the Pacific to America New life, new family & they are shunned for the eyes of their mother, eyes of the enemy a generation learned to hate & some are shunned for the skin of their father, skin darker than would fit in with society Yet these children are survivors.

Dust is scattered, children grow up, but real life doesn’t come with happily ever afters– Instead, children of the dust still straddle an ocean searching for mother, for father, for the truth of their stories and a voice to tell those stories

Grace’s Inspiration:

This piece was inspired by the musical Miss Saigon set in the Vietnam War, in particular, the song about the bụi đời– “the dust of life” or “children of the dust.” After listening to this moving song, I found out more about the fate of these Amerasians: the children of Vietnamese mothers and American fathers. After the fall of Saigon, the American-led Operation Babylift attempted to evacuate some of these children, but even those who reached America faced extreme hardships in fitting in. Many were ostracized for their Asian looks, and those with African-American fathers faced even more discrimination. Even to this day, many are still searching for their true families. I wrote this piece in the hopes of bringing awareness to the stories of the bụi đời and how a war fought several decades ago still affects lives today. Art (16-18) - 1st Place The Silence of Comfort Women by Ye-un Go, Texas - United States

Ye-un’s Inspiration:

‘Comfort women’ refers to women victimized of sexual slavery by Imperial Japan during World War II. Adolescent girls were abducted to ‘comfort stations’ where sexual abuse and unwanted intercourse were coerced. Loss of virginity was used against them to keep them silent. They were murdered when pregnant or attempted to escape, taking away their lives as well as their attempt to voice out the assault. Even after the war, comfort women were threatened, brainwashed, and even blamed on for their own sexual disorderly conduct. Once again, the horrified and demoralized girls had to remain silent out of false guilt and fear. The monstrosity of this event reminded me of a marionette puppet, being manipulated and forced of what to do. It reminded me of their unheard voices, some not having found justice up to this day. It reminded me of the brutality of war, the struggle to live in those times.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘The rape and abuse that happened, and continues to be perpetrated against countless women is an issue that demands to be heard.’ — Vivian Huang, Freelance Artist Art (16-18) - 2nd Place Don’t Ignore the Red Paint by Grace Weisner, Illinois - United States

Grace’s Inspiration:

I chose to do my piece on MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Woman). MMIW is unfortunately not discussed often and many victims and protesters go unheard. In 2016, there were 5,712 known cases of missing and murdered indigenous women and they are ten times the national average to be murdered. My piece features an indigenous woman with a red handprint on her face and in the background. The red handprint over the mouth is a symbol of being silenced and many have worn it in solidarity.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘I think this work is so powerful, so beautiful and it is painted so excellently. It is so hard to nail tone and expression, but this work does it perfectly.’ — Paisley Randell, Artist & Filmmaker

‘Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women are perhaps one of the most unheard voices of conflict. This image is powerful and its message unflinching.’ — Max May, CEO of Rural Arts Art (16-18) - 3rd Place Words Silenced by Sickness by Amy Hirschowitz, England

Amy’s Inspiration:

In my art piece I have collaged letters sent by my great grandmother and her siblings whilst they were in the concentration camps during world war one being punished and prosecuted purely based on their religion. On top of this collage I have drawn my grandmother in bio pen. She lost her loved ones as their words were silenced by sickness. A sickness that carries on today. I hope my art tells a story of a tragedy but serves as a reminder of what evil is capable of doing. Never again will our voices be silenced. Art (16-18) - Honourable Mention I Want a Homeland by Ezdehar Alhosni, Lebanon

Judge’s Reflections:

‘The depiction of a father and his son is unique. On one hand we have the child sleeping in an uncomfortable position in his fathers hands, comfortably knowing he is safe and on the other we have the father who is awake, protecting his son and thinking of a better future, somewhere where they can call home. The artist has done a great job at capturing the melancholy in the fathers eyes.’ — Vasko Stamboliev, Artist & NSI Young Ambassador Speech (16-18) - 1st Place Silent Conflict: An Endless Cycle by Connie Heather, Ireland

People think that when conflict is over, it’s over. A war can be ended with a flourish of pen on paper, but there’s a reason why officials don’t follow their signatures with a full stop. They can provide an end to a battle, but they cannot provide closure. They cannot put a lid on conflict and pack it off in a box and leave it to collect dust on a shelf.

Right now, we’re living through a global pandemic and slowly, steps are being made to emerge from it with the distribution of vaccines. However faint, there is light at the end of the tunnel. But there will be no one day, one moment, when the pandemic will end once and for all. Even if my entire country is vaccinated - even if the entire planet is vaccinated - the pandemic won’t be over. Let me explain why...

Unresolved conflict acts as a parasite, a malicious creature that drinks our oceans like blood and devours the earth’s crust like it’s skin. There’s two groups of parasites: ectoparasites and endoparasites. The former feeds on the host from the outside in, the latter, from the inside out.

When we think of conflict, we look to the world around us: to our communities, the oceans, the skies and continents miles away. We look to the ectoparasites eating us from the outside in. But conflict doesn’t always require two or more people. Inner conflict requires just one, and it can eat away at a person from the inside out.

Ectoparasites are often diagnosed and treated faster than endoparasites, but not because they’re any more or less serious. The reason they’re attended to first is that they’re clearly visible, and because they can be seen with the naked eye, they’re harder to ignore.

The attitude of many is that if you can’t see something, it simply isn’t there. People may be reluctant, however, to claim that love and hope aren’t real, just because you can’t see or touch them. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said with regard to mental health conditions - which aren’t always visible. Mental health conditions are a serious type of internal conflict and just because you can’t always see them, it doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Continued Overleaf Internal and external conflict have been and always will be intertwined: one spurring the other in an endless cycle as old as time itself. You cannot expect people who have suffered as a result of external conflict - such as soldiers, refugees, natural disaster survivors and more - to experience no internal distress or conflict as a result. This also applies to people who live with internal conflict - such as those living or having lived with depression, anxiety or other mental health conditions. It’s completely unreasonable to suggest their internal conflict wouldn’t impact their external lives.

We often treat external wounds before we begin to think about the internal scars a situation has left on someone, even though these scars can be just as damaging to them. If we continue to deny the inextricable link between internal and external conflict, we won’t be able to resolve any conflict at all, because it will just keep changing shape and shifting formto evade us.

The pandemic is not over. It will not be over for many years to come. Because the COVID-19 crisis was only one of the many strains of pandemic to stem from the spread of this infectious disease. Not only are we facing a biological pandemic, we are facing a mental health pandemic.

One day, the events of this crisis will be documented in history books for schoolchildren like me to read. They will recite the statistics: the millions dead and millions more infected. What the history books will not mention are the people who survived, but at a cost.

In our obsession with clinging only to the facts, humanity will make another blunder. Facts alone don’t show the full picture. You cannot - and should not - put a number on a person’s grief or pain. But just because something cannot be consigned a numerical value, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have any value or bearing at all.

This is the silent, unseen conflict and these are the hidden figures. If we don’t warn future generations, I fear there’ll be another pandemic, bigger than the likes of which we’ve seen before. And the casualties will not just be those who die, but the survivors as well.

Listen to Connie’s speech here Speech (16-18) - 2nd Place Knife Crime: The New Virus by Inaas Asad, England

Stealthily, violence roams the streets, circulating the most innocent of prey, endangering the lives of the youth that are unaware of the sharp steel blades hiding in the depth of the shadows in London.

Growing up in East London myself, conflict has undeniably become an integral part of society, but what conflict am I referring to here exactly?

Gang violence.

With the evident rise in the formation of gangs all over London, the risk of walking home alone from school in the dark of winter has become a crime in itself. The punishment is being stabbed, robbed or in drastic circumstances, raped. We may just be on the brink of living in the world of Anthony Burgess’ ‘A Clockwork Orange’, as youth crime lurks in the most unexpected of street corners, and the shape of knife blades flicker in the dark. Like the coronavirus, knife crime is also an “epidemic” that we need to recognise and prevent from spiralling further out of control.

As a teenage girl living in an area where knife crime is becoming increasingly prevalent, I have learnt that even the simplicities in life, such as walking home from school, contain an element of risk. Growing up in a world where the corona pandemic hadn’t yet circulated, hanging outside with friends was a strand of freedom; it was a privilege and a crucial part of my childhood. However, this doesn’t exist today. Children are no longer encouraged to go outside with friends, and even places like parks are deserted, as parents fear that their children will be exposed to harm in public places.

Can children even be children any more?

The alarming increase in the statistics of knife crime since 2014, defeats the possibility of childhood arising once again. It has embedded a vivid sense of fear within a collective conscience of not only teens like myself, but also adults, of being attacked at any moment. With the increased exposure in the media of what is considered to be masculine, young boys especially, see being in a gang and committing a crime as an instant way to gain status and overcome their crisis in masculinity.

Continued Overleaf Globalization, a wide phenomenon, has caused a decline in manual labour jobs, causing boys to fear what jobs they will be able to obtain to maintain the status of what it is to be a ‘man’. When education fails for them, delving into the world of knife crime is an immediate way to overcome this issue. They are in fact, servants of knives.

Currently, stress has reached an unprecedented level. With the coronavirus pandemic obliterating dreams and falsifying the hopes of young children, the future of a society rid of gang crime isn’t looking promising. The coronavirus has become a sort of violence. It has torn apart families and friends, sacrificing the bonds of society altogether. Households have become broken and distorted, into an array of fragile fragments that are incapable of being put together. It has transformed the enlightened souls of the teens of today into souls that are lost and these lost souls are thrown into the peril of gangs as the only option to gain survival in life. Often, the panic created by gangs and crime is a large contributing factor influencing young people to carry knives, as it creates the belief that they will then have a form of protection and be safe, but this also creates a rise in crime.

This widespread conflict is a complex issue as there is no definite answer to the question of why knives are being carried by teenagers in the first place. The moral panic created by the media shows that the definition of knife crime itself is a social and political construction, which creates a deeper complexity to this conflict.

So what can we do to solve this conflict?

With the introduction of educational workshops and knife crime exhibitions, awareness of anti-knife crime initiatives has slowly appeared. Although there has only been a minuscule percentage decrease in knife crime, a change has still occurred. If more rehabilitation centres are set up, and community-based policies are introduced to restore harmonious relations, we can once again live in a society where fear is something that doesn’t dominate the mindset of its citizens. We can stop stigmatizing young people and divert them away from toxicity, but this would not be possible if we do not act now.

Allow children to be children again.

Listen to Inaas’ speech here Speech (16-18) - 3rd Place Living a Lie by Oriana De Sousa, Panama

“None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I heard this quote a few years ago during a Literature class, and I remember unintentionally repeating it in my head while the teacher spoke. It did not take long for me to figure out why that phrase felt so familiar: it reminded me of how some people in Venezuela live in extremely poor conditions, paying for whatever rotten crumbs the government decides to sell them, and somehow believe they are living better than ever. Politicians and others with high positions live in pure bliss, surrounded by stolen riches and plenty of food, while the rest of the country starves, having to live without water or electricity for what seems like weeks at a time. Most people complain, cursing the ones in power for ruining the nation, while the naïve and misinformed rejoice on the rotten food the government makes them pay for, and the few expired medicines hospitals are provided with. They are content and comfortable living like this, in this misery, because it’s all they have ever known, and nothing will ever change if Nicolas Maduro, the current president of Venezuela, chosen by Hugo Chávez himself, and the rest of his corrupt band aren’t kicked out of the government. The country lives under Chávez’s undying influence, and it has teared down whatever was left of democracy.

Many people have asked me about why the situation in Venezuela is so terrible and seems to be getting worse every year. Patiently, I have answered this question with almost the same explanation every time, making it as short and easy to understand as possible. The root of the crisis came from a military coup led by Hugo Chávez and his rise to power during the 1990s. He promised Venezuelans a better economy and real equality between social classes, and many people believed him. As the majority knows, not a single promise was kept. Chávez twisted laws to favor himself and did everything at his reach to stay in power. Surprisingly, there were still people who voted repeatedly in his favor, believing he was improving the country, both social and economically, but in reality, he was doing the complete opposite. To this day, many Venezuelans still praise him and compare him to the great Simón Bolívar. Thence, the situation started getting worse the longer he stayed in power, with many civilians not being properly paid, food and utilities shortages becoming more frequent, and the crime rate skyrocketing.

Continued Overleaf My family got lucky and managed to flee the country like many others before the terrible economic and humanitarian crisis worsen over 13 years ago. Sadly, many people were not as fortunate and remained in the country, mainly living in the capital where things are a bit better.

Currently, the country is, metaphorically speaking, on fire. The current pandemic is not really helping the already terrible medical shortages and the accumulated economic issues from past years that have once again come back to worsen the situation. Many of us do what we can to support our Venezuelan brothers and sisters, but the country has gotten to a point where it needs other nations to help get rid of the corrupt government. Since I migrated to Panama when I was around three years old, I do not have that national bond to Venezuela that most people have with their native countries, but I still do whatever I can to help. For a long time, I have been listening to politicians all over the world condemning the government’s actions and crimes violating human rights, but the discussion has always ended there: the politicians complain, express how angry they are at the government, and move on to the next topic. Nothing is ever done to truly take action. This inactivity not only does it intensify the people’s need for foreign forces to assist them, but it gives every Venezuelan, who wishes to one day return to their once rich and beautiful country, false hopes.

I think I am talking in the name of the majority of Venezuelans inside and outside the country when I say this: Venezuela needs help. The people cannot stand up against the military and the government without international help. At this point, anyone can help, either by raising awareness of the situation or signing as many online petitions as possible to motivate other governments to do something. This has simply been left unattended for far too long.

Listen to Oriana’s speech here Speech (16-18) - Honourable Mention Children of the Revolution by Feriel Terras, Tunisia

As I sit here delivering this speech, I realise each word that bounces off my tongue is part of something that is much bigger than me.

10 years ago, Tunisian activists and reporters calling for ultimate liberty were condemned, tortured and murdered by an impitoyable dictator. They fought until their last breaths for our emancipation and gave the younger generation an immeasurable gift: Freedom of speech. I, we, owe them every sentence, every thought, every breath.

There is something quite special about growing up in the midst of a revolution. I may have been only 8 years old when it broke out, but some parts of it have engraved themselves in my memory in ways I could never forget. The chaos, the uncertainty, the lockdowns, and, for my 8 year old mind, eating the same old frozen food every day certainly weren’t the most rewarding parts of the journey. Questions filled my mind and it seemed like no one, not even my parents, had the answers. When would I be able to go back to school and see my friends? Why does a trip to the grocery store now seem so dangerous? Who is the guy on TV and why do we want him out so badly?

Although I didn’t fully grasp the eminence of our situation, I knew my country was going through a critical state and the political unrest I witnessed is behind some of my most profound convictions today. Learning about the murder of Chokri Belaid, a political dissenter who urged for freedom on TV one night and got murdered by our dictator the morning after, my mother and I wept to the cruelty of our current regime, to the innocent souls it so brutally did away with. I may have only cried like a child who saw his mother crying, one who doesn’t fully know what is going on, but there was one thing I was certain about: the situation needed to change and if I could, I would be marching on the streets with the protesters, picking up right where the martyrs left off.

After our dictator Ben Ali finally fled the country, we were feeling as free and unstoppable as we were disoriented on what to do next. So how do we start over now? Everyone thought.

Continued Overleaf Over the years, I have seen the birth of our democracy and witnessed its every move, every development. It has been a shaky, uncertain, and messy transition, but we learn from it every day. It has made us and continues to be a big part of our daily lives, as children of a revolution that electrified us with possibility and opened our eyes to the inexorable power of justice and union. It has taught us through the myriad of victims who fought for our freedom to never let the oppressor take over and to never hesitate to shout for liberty, even when our own lives are at stake. It has broadened the definition of the term “revolution” and allowed us to experience it within ourselves, every day.

My dear compatriots, there is a revolution inside each and every one of you. Do not tame it. Do not fight it. Use your voice to amplify it and let it be the change you want to see in this world. May you not fear blood, nor the threatening tyrants that life sprinkles on your journey.

Your bravery is needed. Your fight is wanted.

Listen to Feriel’s speech here Song (16-18) - 1st Place Free Me by Nur Adibah Mohammad Kifli, Malaysia

You know that I’m not a star, Or a hero I’m just a regular person who wears a mask To cover up my feelings To hide something important And there’s this thing called society I run with fear and I hide (chorus) So please, help me with this tragedy I lost myself too much I need help, please someone, free me Oh I know, that no one can hear me Some say I am strong and unique But the fact is I am very weak I saw my friends are capable with everything Why do I feel like I am hurting my chest? *chorus* *Oh uwoahhh~~~oh~~oh~oh~oh~oh~uwoahh~oh~oh~ohh~hohoohh~woah~woah~~ In this kind of world there’s no good and bad They look all the same and makes me feel so small I thought I can disappear All the hopes and dreams have crushed my life Because the society is too much for me to handle *chorus (in small tune on so please) (large tune help me...)* Help me! Help me! Save me! Save me! Oh I know that no one can hear me~~

Listen to ‘Free Me’ here Song (16-18) - 2nd Place Poetisa by Liziane Baltazar, Brazil

War why does need to happen peace, when will we get it Dreams takedown for something nightmare, waking up is not solving

they still have prejudice against those who aren’t beauty standards the society condemns the criminal who the society makes

putting cost on anything Amazonia is for sale being placing the blame on anyone blacks are dying.

death, why does need to happen life away from heaven tragedy why does need to happen reasons, who knows answers? dara dada dada dahahau daha dadau dara dada dada dahada dahadau

War, why does need to happen In life a dream is the peace.

Listen to ‘Poetisa’ here Song (16-18) - 3rd Place The Unheard Voices by Clintin Ambeno, Cyprus Sometimes I feel sad Sometimes I feel good But sometimes I feel nothing at all People crying every day All the killing, bloodshed But I know that everything will be gone

Far away in the dark I could hear the voices whispering down deep through my ears through my heart but I know, I know everything will be gone and making this world a better place

We preach love every day, we preach peace every day all these words makes us stronger all the time, So many families separated, Many kids separated Where is the sympathy that we say all day,

Far away in the dark I could hear the voices whispering down deep through my ears through my heart but I know, I know everything will be gone and making this world a better place.

Listen to ‘The Unheard Voices’ here Special Recognition Reflections on Covid-19 Poetry (9-11) - Covid-19 The Year 2020 by Libby Broad, England

I sit here mouth open - no sound will come out, no matter how hard I yell, scream and shout.

I am neither old - nor have I ever feared war, yet I have now a barrier across my front door. My urge to run out and ignore what is right, I conflict with myself yet have learned to fight. In my head I can hear all I want to portray, will someone hear what I have to say.

I sit here mouth open - no sound will come out, no matter how hard I yell, scream and shout.

I sit in a house, brimming love from its beams, I’m worried what’s occurring will ruin my dreams. Shops, bars and restaurant all had to shut down, in all the big cities through to the small town. No school at the start – bought a moment of cheer, but when will we return, the answers not clear?

I sit here mouth open - no sound will come out, no matter how hard I yell, scream and shout.

The box that projects stories abundant with news, only for me it’s just there in order to confuse. Men and women in power who don’t have a clue, on the best solution asking, “what do we do?” As more time passes it becomes abundantly clear. that like war itself, I have so much to fear.

Continued Overleaf I sit here mouth open - no sound will come out, no matter how hard I yell, scream and shout.

I watch as my family try to hide how they feel, like what’s going on in the world is of no great deal. Yet I say a fond farewell to one I hold dear, and watch another mourn his passing it is truly clear. Now more time passes a catastrophe it’s become, on a global scale, the world is no fun.

I sit here mouth open - no sound will come out, no matter how hard I yell, scream and shout.

I wonder - NO - I’m sure - there’s more like me, same thoughts, feelings and questions there must be. So We sit here mouths open-no sound has come out. No matter how hard we yell, scream and shout.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘This poem clearly deserves Special Recognition for so many reasons. Firstly, the structure of the poem is exceptional. The first moment you see this poem, your eye is attracted to the poem by its structure, which is so clever that it draws the reader into the poem. Secondly, the meter of the poem has such a distinct beat that makes it so pleasant, but also so punchy to read. Thirdly, the poem is filled with some truly poetic lines, such as “I sit in a house, brimming love from its beams.” That is sheer poetry. Fourthly, the repetitive two lines that run through the poem, are very clever indeed and are used so skilfully, to punctuate the poem. This poem stands out from all the other poems submitted to this age group, I can only hope that the poet who wrote this poem continues to write poems, for he or she clearly has a wealth of poetic talent.’ — Clive Sanders, NSI Poet in Residence Poetry (11-14) - Covid-19 Mental Health Conflict by Grace Connearn, England

Locked down: trapped at home, Locked down: left on my own, Locked down: feeling alone, Locked down: digital faces on phone, Locked down: our future unknown. Locked down: enter the vaccine zone, Locked down: a virus overthrown - The key we needed…

Look now: at how much we’ve grown.

Judge’s Reflections:

‘Congratulations, this poem clearly deserves Special Recognition. Just how much emotion can a poet get in so few lines? The poem is punchy, easy to read, but carries such a powerful message, that follows a compulsive train to read. The poet shows great talent in this poem and should continue writing poems.’ — Clive Sanders, NSI Poet in Residence

‘The poem Mental Health Conflict highlights the struggles and challenges children have experienced through the past year. Mentalhealth.org states children are now experiencing more loneliness and worry about their future education due to the time spent in lockdown. The poem shows hope for the future and how Children have still managed to grow over the pandemic.’ — Leslie MacLeod-Miller, NSI Trustee Poetry (16-18) - Covid-19 The Rainbow by Kadija Sheth, England

They say colours help us see, Differentiate shades that match. They can define who you can be, give the room a special touch, or make it a catch.

But the colours I see now, Are not what they once were. As I ask if you can vow, That the rainbow you see does not demur?

Red is blood, anger and fear, For it is so bright, it can almost sear. Orange is dirty, a nuisance, just ‘there’, Irrelevant like the past thoughts that seem so unclear. Yellow is sadness, clinical, and vivid, Like the ambulances that now make us stand so rigid. Green is envy, disgust, and despair, For we are locked at home where smiles are rare. Blue is dark, dangerous and frightening, Its shade is so deep that you can almost feel it tightening. Indigo and violet are now just ‘purple’, Merged into an army, the perfect hurdle.

What the colours once were, And what they have become. So much the differ, A part of me has become so numb.

For the changes are so vast, That it is hard to see, The colours for what they can be. Art (9-11) - Covid-19 Cure Inventor by Hsing Yuan Kuo, Taiwan Art (11-14) - Covid-19 Torn World, Silent Wounds by Gary Wang, Canada

Gary’s Inspiration:

Not only does Covid-19 inflict damage, it breaks off the connections within the world and splits it apart more and more. Countries blame each other for the origin and spread. The newspapers and media are filled with propaganda of how their own state or government is coping and how others are doing not so well. This can bring lots of discrimination and fear to the children who do not understand what is going on and just wish for everyone to be normal, thus embodied in the drawing of the horrified child who is staring through the middle of the torn map, peering out of a blanket she uses to hide herself. Art (14-16) - Covid-19 Hate is a Virus by Tiffany Deng, New York - United States

Tiffany’s Inspiration:

I enjoy making art, especially using colored pencils and oil pastels. It serves as an outlet for me whenever I feel stressed or upset, and is something I am passionate about. In every piece of my artwork, I hope to convey a message. As we know, the pandemic COVID-19 has been severely impacting the lives of everyone for the past year. Our world has flipped upside down, and as more and more people get sick, it is hard to see when our lives will go back to normal. The rapid increase of COVID-19 cases has also unleashed widespread Anti-Asian Racism and Xenophobic attacks. By making this piece, I hope to highlight the importance of solidarity and equality during these unprecedented times and the significance of not discriminating against others based on their race. Art (16-18) - Covid-19 Broken by Aimee Wannan, Scotland

Aimee’s Inspiration:

The focus of this painting and mixed media piece is broken. Mental health has really suffered during lockdown and during the COVID pandemic. Speech (9-11) - Covid-19 Unheard Voices of Kids by Srinidhi Balaji, New Jersey - United States

Hi, I’m Srinidhi Balaji, a fifth-grader in Martin Luther King Elementary School at Edison, New Jersey. A few years ago, no one would have imagined the world we live in today with so-called our “new normal”.

This COVID-19 pandemic has opened Pandora’s box for kids resulting in a multitude of problems related to academic, social, and emotional aspects of life. Today, I would like to represent the unheard voices of all those kids whose lives have been hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Every education system is based on the famous motto “Today’s kids are tomorrow’s leaders”, but if you dig deep into the minds and hearts of the kids today, you will see the fear, anxiety, and uncertainty instigated by the COVID-19 pandemic. The global shift to online education has digitally divided the classes all around the world. With Covid 19 on the loose, students can’t go in-person to school and sit in their classrooms just like we used to.

Kids love the summer because of the places they can go like amusement parks, water parks, and have their wonderful vacation. Last year the kids were forced to stay indoor due to the pandemic and the parents were so scared and they did not even let the kids play outside. Kids were left staring at the walls inside their home.

Do you know the part that all kids miss the most? Friends. Of course, kids can face time each other or call by the phone, but is it really the same as talking to each other face to face? The answer is a two-letter word. N, O. No. We can’t meet our friends face-to-face, a luxury that now cannot be afforded at the expense of health risks. I had to spend my 10th birthday without a single friend! Very, very, boring. Many of my friends had to go through many difficulties. One of my classmates lost both of her grandparents due to COVID. My other close friend had to face many parental conflicts as the parents are staying inside the four walls all day long. The conflicts grew and grew into arguments and resulted in divorce. Now my friend lives with her mother on the weekdays and goes to her father’s on the weekends.

Continued Overleaf Though the kids stay with their family members inside the house due to the pandemic, we still feel lonely especially without talking to friends or interacting with one another. The pandemic has not only threatened the safety and well-being of kids, but drastically damaged their mental health too. Though the pandemic will come to an end with vaccines and safety precautions, its psychological impact may stay forever as their worst memories of their childhood.

Listen to Srinidhi’s speech here Song (11-14) - Covid-19 Tough Times by Zach Desdenakis, Greece

Quarantine you’ve ruined everything for me. How would life be? Thousand people dying every week Stores are closing I am losing it Why would you do that covid 19? I can’t even speak to my family. Coronavirus please let us live without mask and fear. Let’s be patient to make it disappear I know for all it’s been a catastrophic year. But I want to see happy faces and smiles everywhere. I wish from now on there is only joy in the air. Quarantine you’ve messed up everything for me. How would life be? But i will stand up. So that everyone can see They can get back to their feet just like me. Just like me. Just like me. You can get back to your feet Just like me.

Zach’s Inspiration:

With this song I want to give a voice to all those people like me and my family that quarantine and coronavirus ruined their life. I want people to understand what is happening to some of us and I want to explain to them that I know what they’re going through but I know that they are strong and they can get back to their feet that was my inspiration. It explains itself in the title Tough Times.

Listen to ‘Tough Times’ here Song (14-16) - Covid-19 Our “Song of Hope” by Alynna Ridha Mohd Ridzuan, Ameer Rydza Mohd Ridzuan & Arman Rezza Mohd Ridzuan, Malaysia

Listen to Our “Song of Hope” here

Inspiration:

This song is written and sang to express our feelings on how the pandemic of Covid-19 affect us, our family, and basically to everyone in the world. It has been a tough and struggling year of 2020 since it started, and one of the effects is missing schools, meeting our friends and teachers, and family whom we normally go visit every holidays. We look forward for a better future for ourselves and of course for everyone else, and hopefully our song can make some if not many people to keep moving forward, to stay positive, and to have hope for better days in the future. Our Judges

Major (retd.) Barry Alexander Veteran, poet & author

Jeffrey Archer Author

Nicholas Chatwin OBE Commander Royal Navy (Retd)

Patrick Cregg Ambassador for The Woodland Trust and an MBE

Jason Deutsch Speechwriter in the Australian Public Service

Emma Dowley Governor of St Barnabas Church of England primary school, champion for literacy, lover of children’s poetry having had 5 children of her own!

Susan Hammond NSI Trustee

Vivian Huang Freelance artist, photographer, fencer and esports athlete

Martin Impey Multi award-winning illustrator, with 30 years of experience in the industry

Stanley Johnson Author & Poet

Colin Kerr Director of Finance: The Children’s Trust. Formerly a Director of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission

Vasco Kretschmann Unit manager for school education of Volksbund Deutsche Kriegsgräberfürsorge (German War Grave Commission) Rory Lewis Fine Art Portrait Photographer, London, England

Leslie Macleod-Miller NSI Trustee

Max May Director and CEO of Rural Arts

Mitch Mitchell Proud Veteran and Improving Father

Michaela Morgan Award winning poet & author of children’s books

Cheryl Moscowitz Poet, Educator & Writer

Dr Vivien Newman Historian, author, researcher; BBC “Expert Woman” (women and children World War One)

Nik Perring Author & NSI Speech and Poetry Practitioner

Lieutenant Colonel Peter Poole MBE NSI Trustee

Paisley Randell Artist & filmmaker. Founder of the Cardiff-based art collective ‘Umbrella’ & Jewellery company ‘Mourning Assembly’

Clive Sanders Veteran, Poet & NSI Poet in Residence

Androcles Scicluna West End performer, poet & former servicemen of the British Army

Vasko Stamboliev Artist & NSI Young Ambassador Dr Martin Stephen NSI Trustee

Cole Sternberg Artist

Sir Hew Strachan DL British military historian

Grant Tilbury Head of Artists, Trackd

Elaine Vosko French & English teacher with a great love for poetry

Tom Wright Senior Lecturer in English, University of Sussex

Veronika Zonabend Founding partner and the Chair of the Board of Governors of UWC Dilijan, Armenia With Thanks

There are several people we would like to send our deepest gratitude to for helping make the 2020/21 competition a success.

President

Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence KCVO CB ADC(P)

Trustees

Lady Lucy French OBE Susan Hammond Leslie MacLeod-Miller (Chair) Lieutenant Colonel Peter Poole MBE Dr Martin Stephen

Advisory Panel

Dame Jenny Abramsky Rosy Cave Professor Colin Diamond CBE Karl Lokko General Sir Gordon Messenger KCB DSO* OBE Kris Murrin Sir Ken Olisa OBE

Special Advisor

Sir Murdo Maclean

Treasurer

Stephen Perry Workshop Practitioners

Jenny Catlow Carlos Cortes Nik Perring Clive Sanders - NSI Poet in Residence Kemi Sulola Bethzienna Williams - NSI Songwriter in Residence

Partners and Supporters

Armed Forces Covenant Fund Arts Council England Aviva British Council Greece British Council Romania British Council Zimbabwe Commonwealth War Graves Commission Department for Digital, Culture, Media & Sport Holly Pullinger Indian High Commission Mark Hosker Mitch Mitchell Nametags4u Pegasus Art Robert Walters Sir Adrian Montague & Lady Innes Montague The Royal British Legion Volksbund Thank you to the following schools for taking part in the competition! Schools with winning entries are highlighted in bold.

Средняя общеобразовательная школа № 23 Bajothang Higher Secondary School 13th Primary School of Kalamaria Bandarban Government High School 23rd Primary School of Kalamaria Barlby High School 2ο ΔΗΜΟΤΙΚΟ ΣΧΟΛΕΙΟ ΙΕΡΙΣΣΟΥ Beaconhouse School System ΧΑΛΚΙΔΙΚΗΣ ΕΛΛΑΔΑ Beal High School 370 Studios Berrien Springs High School 3rd Primary School of Pefka Bishop Ramsey C of E School 3ο ΔΗΜΟΤΙΚΟ ΣΧΟΛΕΙΟ ΑΡΙΔΑΙΑΣ, 3RD Bishop Walsh Catholic School PRIMARY SCHOOL OF ARIDAIA Blundell’s School 42 Primary School “Hadji Dimitar” Boston School International 5th Elementary School of Naoussa Boulder High School 6o ΓΥΜΝΑΣΙΟ ΒΕΡΟΙΑΣ Bright Riders School 9ο ΔΗΜΟΤΙΚΟ ΣΧΟΛΕΙΟ ΓΙΑΝΝΙΤΣΩΝ Bristol Road Middle School 9ο δημοτικό σχολείο Γιαννιτσών British Red Cross Surviving to Thriving 9ο ΔΗΜΟΤΙΚΟ ΣΧΟΛΕΙΟ ΓΙΑΝΝΙΤΣΩΝ British School of Paris Abu Dhabi Indian School British School Punta Arenas Academia Los Pinares Brookstone School Academy of Our Lady Bubbler Art Active Learning Zakladni Skola Buckler’s Mead Academy Aitchison College Lahore Burnt Oak Primary School Aitchison College Prep School Byron College Al Jazeera Academy, Qatar. Cambridge Steiner School Allerton high school Camille See Alleyn’s Junior School Carrickfergus Academy Alliance Art Academy CATS College Cambridge Alpha Preparatory School Center for Creativity and Education of St. American School of Tegucigalpa Petersburg American School Quito Central Foundation Boys’ School Anand Bhavan School Chagrin Falls Middle School Anavryta Model Lyceum Charity Artstudio Anavryta Vocational Lyceum Cheltenham Ladies’ College Appleby College Children Art School 17 Archbishop Temple school Children Art School of Ganja City Arksakeia School Chong Hok Tong Education Center Arsakeio Secondary School Churcher’s College Art School “ARTEYA” Varna Cirencester Kingshill School Art School of Gerakas City Of London School For Girls Aspira Educare, Kuantan Claverham Community College Australian International School Colegio Americano de Quito Colegio Internacional SEK Guatemala GD Goenka Public school Coleguil de Arta Geitonas School Colegiul Economic Administrativ Geniko Lykeio Neou Skopou Country Day School Gimnazia 3 of Bryansk Dame Alice Owens School Glen A. Wilson High School Danish school boys chishtian Global Edge School Dean Close Prep School Godalming College Delhi Public School Godolphin and Latymer Design Studio “Kukutis” Godwin Junior School Didomizios Art Center Gosh Secondary School Dilijan Central School Grey Coat Hospital Dilijan Children’s Art School Grey Court School Dilijan Community Center Groton School Dilijan School N 4 GSU named F.Skorina Diocesan Girls’ School Guru Nanak Sikh Academy Discovery Kids Secondary School Gymnasio Agiou Pnevmatos Dominica Grammar School Gymnasio Neou Souliou Dr. Ioan Mesota National College Gymnasium No. 4 Drawing and Animation Studio MultArt Gymnázium sv. Moniky, Prešov Dubai College Hadlow School Easy Learning Haghartsin Secondary School Eden Boys’ School Harrow School Eden Girls’ School Haslingden High School Eleanor Van Gelder school High School Georgi Dimitrov Elizabeth College Junior School Hobby School of Ulaanbaatar Ellesmere Port Church of England College Hodge Hill Girls’ School El Yakada High School Holt High School Emerson Middle School Hunter College High School Emil Racovita High School Ibstock Place School English Gate School Ilam Primary English with Vicki Independence High School Esperance Senior High School Inspire to Aspire Exmouth District High School Instituto Iberia Fatima Convent English Medium School International Acedemy of Macomb Fazaia Inter College Jinnah Camp Nur Khan International Christian School Fazakerley High School International School Manila Fendalton Open Air School International Student Art First Belgrade High school JCoSS Funny Art Studio Jersey College for Girls Furr High School Jurong Pioneer Junior College G. Papas Language School Jurong Pioneer Secondary School Garden International School Kalam Kudus Junior High School Gateway College Keningau Vocational College Kids school of art №2 Glazov Notre Dame International School King Alfred’s Academy Ocean Grove Charter School King Edward’s School Ormiston Ilkeston Enterprise Academy Kinloss Primary OŠ „Stanoje Miljković” Brestovac KIS International School Bangkok Pakthongchaichunhawanwittayakarn school Kopische School № 1 Panamerican School Kursenai Art School Paull Primary School Laira Green Primary School Council Petri Mor Technological High School Larbert High Pichai Art School Lathom High School Pimlico Primary LEONARDO Art School Pinewood - American International School of Leonteios School of Athens Thessaloniki LGBTQ Club Pioneer School of Ariana Lgov Boarding School Pipers Corner School Life Happens Playart club Liverpool Life Sciences UTC Private Primary School “Elliniki Paideia” Lotus Matric Secondary School Protypo Lykeio Zosimaias Schools Ioanninon Lourdes Girls Secondary School Quainton Hall School Lyceum 1 Queen Mary’s College Lynbrook High School Ramjas Public School Mandoulides Schools Real Education Margaret Mary’s Secondary School Reigate Grammar School Marlborough College Malaysia Rendcomb College Mayflower Young Writers Richmond Park College Sarajevo MBOU “Elista Lyceum” Robinson Secondary MBOU Astrakhan “Lyceum No. 1” Royal Latin Grammar School McNeil High School Royal Oak High School Methodist Girls Primary School, Kuantan Rudheath Senior Academy Middlesex County Academy Ryan International School MLP Secondary School Sacred Heart Academy Morpeth Chantry Middle School Sacred Heart Catholic School Moscow Literary Institute Sanghamiththa Girls College Mossbourne Victoria Park Academy Satec @ W.A Porter CI Mulberry Academy Shoreditch Scarning VC Primary School MBEI Secondary School №8 of Yurga town Schnittke Moscow State University of Music MBEI Secondary School No. 10 School № 27 MBEI Astrakhan “Secondary school № 40” School No. 197 National School of Sciences school 1793 New Hall School School 30 New Oriental Academy School 32 Nga Tawa Diocesan School School 54 Donetsk North Bromsgrove High School School N 6 Norwich School School № 17 6 “g” form & 7 “V” form School No. 8 “Music” St. Petersburg St. John Paul the Great Catholic High School School Number 2, Dilijan St. Stephens High School School of Arts St. Vincent De Paul Catholic Primary School School of Creativity St. Vincents School Schools of the Gymnasium Number 4 State Budgetary Institution of Continuing Secondary Comprehensive School #41, Education Children’s Art School No. 1 in Krasnodar Grozny Secondary School 12 State institution of social service “Kamyshinsky Secondary school №134 social rehabilitation center for minors” Şehit Polis Fethi Sekin Primary School Stolízo Selwyn House School Stone Bridge High School Shahid Mahdavi Smart School Kerman Street Project Foundation Shining Star Public School Sturminster Newton High School SIAE “Center for creativity of children and SUGS “Lazar Tanev” youth of the city of Cherven” SUGS Georgi Dimitrov SICAS Suha Suha Art Studio Simpson Primary School Sultan Abu Bakar School (SABS) Kuantan Sinarmas World Academy Sunlight Art Group Sista Rock Sunny Hills High School Six 21 Surabaya International School Sırrı Yırcalı Anatolian High School Sverdlovsk Regional Musical and Aesthetic SMA 7 MALANG Pedagogical College SMA Muhammadiyah 02 Pemalang Swanmead SMA Negeri 5 Makassar Swarnamali Girls College SMK METHODIST (ACS) SITIAWAN Sychroni Paideia Private Schools South Shore Charter Public School Sydney international school St Andrew’s College Taejon Christian International School St Andrew’s Preparatory School Talash e Danish High School St Anthony’s Catholic Primary School Tavush, Secondary school of Teghout village St Bartholomew’s First School Teghut Secondary School St Cedd’s School The Asimenia Featham Schools Of English St Cuthbert’s C. E Primary School The Bicester School, Oxford St Edward’s Royal Free Ecumenical School The Bishop Strachan School St Francis of Xavier Rc The Budha International School St George Internation School of Madrid The Canterbury Academy St Helen’s Primary School The Cultural Association “Arte.ro” Romania St John’s College The Epic Talks St Joseph’s Primary School The Golden Section St Peters Eaton Square C of E Primary School The Henrietta Barnett School St Philip’s CoE Primary The Laurels School St Stithians Girls’ College The Matthew Arnold School St Thomas More Catholic School The Notre Dame International School St. Franziskus Schule The Studio School Liverpool The Urswick School ГБПОУ АО “Астраханский колледж The Villa вычислительной техники” The Westminster School МАОУ “Гимназия № 42” города Кемерово The Westminster School Dubai МАОУ “Кадетская школа им.Старшинова Н.В.” The York School МАОУ “Лицей № 7” г. Бердск Thorney Island Community Primary School МАОУ “Обдорская гимназия” Thornhill College МАОУ “Школа 161” Toc H Public School МАОУ «Гимназия №33 г. Улан-Удэ» Tonbridge School МАОУ лицей экономики и основ Tring School предпринимательства номер 10 UAL МБОУ “Гимназия “Шанс” г.Волгодонска UNHCR Romania - ETC AIDRom МБОУ “СШ № 2 им. А. Круталевича гор. United World College Dilijan Гвардейска” University of Lagos МБОУ “Цветновская СОШ” Upper Darby High School МБОУ лицей с.Долгоруково Липецкой Urmston Grammar School области Veritas Classical Academy МБОУ СОШ № 33 г. Орла Vologda College of Service МБОУ СОШ 7 Vredenburg High School МБОУ СОШ №33 г. Орла Walsall College МБОУ СОШ №5 Wellington Academy МБОУ СОШ с.Стегаловка Липецкой Wen/Holy Family School области Wesley Methodist School Kuala Lumpur МБОУ школа № 16 имени героя Советского West Hall High School Союза Сережникова А. И. город Балашиха Wetherby Prepatory School Московской области Whittington Primary School МБОУ”СОШ 51” г.Курска. Россия Woodbridge High School МБУ ДО ЦДТ Ленинского района Woodbridge Primary School МБУДО ДШИ 18 г.Саратов Woodland Middle МОУ “Гимназия № 7 г. Буденновска” Wycombe Abbey School МОУ СШ №44 Wymondham College Муниципальное автономное Yong Zheng Primary School общеобразовательное учреждение «Средняя Youths Association общеобразовательная школа № 3» Ysgol Maes Garmon ОКОУ”Льговская школа-интернат для детей YYS ART LAB с ОВЗ” Αρσάκειο студия “Da Vinci” г.Ливны Αρσάκειο Γυμνάσιο Θεσσαλονίκης της Φ.Ε. СУГС “Лазар Танев” Αρσάκειο Λύκειο Θεσσαλονίκης ФГКОУ «Тверское суворовское военное Δημοτικό Σχολείο Νέας Σάντας Ν. Κιλκίς училище МО РФ» Ангарский педагогический колледж ХАЗАРСКИЙ КАГАНАТ Вокальная эстрадная студия “ГАРМОНИЯ” школа№7 مدرسة ابو زعبل الثانويه املشرتكة «ГАПОУ СО «СОМЭПК Team

Will Dalziel Mary Hartley Katie Salari

Thank you to all of our supporters within the Royal Navy, Army and Royal Air Force.

We are grateful for all of the support we have received from teachers, educators, organisers and guests who made the competition a huge success this year.

Prizes were generously donated by Nametags4u, Pegasus Art and the Volksbund.

For more information about Never Such Innocence, including updates on future competitions and projects, please visit our website and follow us on social media.

https://www.neversuchinnocence.com

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www.neversuchinnocence.com President: Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence KCVO CB ADC(P) Registered Charity No. 1156148 | Company No. 8680319