I want to be a Peer Mediator because I would love to help people work out their problems.

Today I have learnt how to act and be professional and how to sort problems well.

 By Ben

I want to be a Peer Mediator because I think I would be good for this job by listening. I have a good memory and can sort out people's problem , and a cool way to sort out problems and give teachers a breath and be a role model.  

I have learnt how to make people be heard, to know different feelings. knowing what it is to live and be heard.

Crash! My knees slammed into the cold, hard ice as I tumbled during my very first attempt at ice skating. The impact sent a jolt through my body, and icy wetness soaked through my clothes, making me shiver. The cold bit into my skin, but instead of feeling embarrassed, I started laughing. That awkward, clumsy fall turned into one of the most memorable moments of my camp, and it was only the beginning. That’s how my 2 day school camp at Tekapo kicked off, slipping and sliding like a penguin trying to dance. I had been nervous before we arrived. The idea of being away from home, sharing a bunk room, and trying new things was both exciting and terrifying. The ice rink quickly became my favourite part of the camp. At first, I moved stiffly, arms out like blades, legs doing their own thing, and my balance was not in time with my body. I probably looked like a robot made of jelly. But as time went on, I wobbled less, and eventually, I was gliding across the ice like a bird soaring across the sky. The ice rink echoed with the scratchy sound of skates cutting through ice, laughter echoing off the walls, and music playing faintly in the background. 

As fun as skating was, the Red Tarns Walk at Aoraki/Mount Cook gave me a completely different kind of thrill. On the morning of the hike, we woke early, packed our daypacks, and bundled into the bus, all buzzing with energy. The sun was shining but the air was crisp, and the mountains leaned in the distance. As we arrived at the track, I remember looking up to see where the trail led. We began to climb with determination. The track was steep right from the start, winding up through wooden stairs and rocky steps that challenged every muscle in my legs. My backpack felt heavier with each step, and before long, my breathing became louder than my thoughts. But the views were amazing. Every few minutes, we’d stop, not just to catch our breath, but because the view was beautiful. Behind us, the valley spread out like a living painting, green and gold and dotted with patches of snow. We spotted tiny streams sparkling in the sun, birds soaring below us, and glaciers gleaming like blue diamonds. Halfway up, my legs felt like jelly. My water bottle was nearly empty, and the snacks in my pocket started calling my name. My friend, Cecilia, donated me some water so I could stay hydrated. So we pushed on, encouraging each other with cheers, jokes, and the promise of an incredible view at the top. And we were right. When we finally reached the Red Tarns, I stopped in my tracks. The tarns were perfectly still, like a pool of melted glass. They reflected the peak of Mount Cook so clearly that it looked like the mountain was staring back at us from beneath the water. The sky above was deep blue, and the clouds seemed to hover quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace. We sat on rocks near a big bush, munching on the snacks we brought in our daypacks. Some of us layed back with our eyes closed, listening to the wind as it whispered through the grass. At that moment, I didn’t care about sore legs or aching feet. I just felt calm and proud, like I had achieved something bigger than I’d expected. Although nothing crazy happened in camp, it was still one of the best weeks of my life. Every day was filled with laughter, fresh air, friendship, and adventure. Whether we were ice skating, hiking, secretly ate snacks in our cabins, or just talking under the stars at night, there was always something to enjoy.

By the end of the week, I was exhausted. My legs felt like they ran a marathon, and I felt like I haven't slept for days. On the bus ride home, I leaned against the window, watching the mountains fade behind us and thinking about everything we’d done.

My body clicked instantaneously as soon as I crossed the threshold of solid, grippy land and pellucid, frigid, frozen terrain; some kids stumbling and skidding around like newborn giraffes. I observed them flail their arms around frantically and then collapse and scramble back to their feet again to give it another go.

I gracefully glided over the ice, a bird in the sky, a fish in water. 

 Around two years ago I had done the same thing. The first time I did it, swiftly maneuvering through flailing newborn giraffes, winding in spirals in the winter wonderland with my companions. Bliss.

The sun, a relentless eye in the afternoon sky, beat down on the dusty track. Each step, a deliberate, aching movement, dragged me further up the mountain. The air, thin and dry, burned in my lungs. Muscles screamed in protest, reminding them of every uphill stride. The summit, still far out of reach, seemed to mock their exhaustion.

It was the icky feeling that I HATED. Socks drenched, clothes sticky and wet. Walking up a mountain on a chilly afternoon sounded horrible for most people, and I was one of them.Although I was up the front, my legs were aching, hands clawing the air. I kept on telling myself “Almost there” but I knew that was a lie. Mr Blackie told everyone to stop and wait for the others to catch up, which was a relief because I wasn't stopping on my own anytime soon. I was aiming to be the first girl to the top.

After what felt like 2 years of walking I started to slip behind, watching all the people behind me slowly make their way to the front was UNBEARABLE but I couldn't stop now…could I? I was slowly starting to regain my strength when I saw.. STAIRS I started to panic. I just wanted this nightmare to end. I put all my strength into those 10 steps and just knew my legs would be aching for days. A while later Mr Blackie generously decided to take a break. I looked down and saw all my friends' heads peeking from a couple tracks below us. I felt tears from the cold wind dripping down my face. My mouth was a spit machine while I took my last steps to the top. It was the most beautiful view I had ever seen. (I promised myself to NEVER walk up a mountain/uphill track again until...)