As winter exhibition night approached, the Humanities classroom slowly transformed from a place of research and drafting into a space filled with urgency, confidence-building, and a lot of strong opinions. Our project, The Great Debaters, challenged us to do much more than just learn about issues. We had to take a position, defend it, and convince a real audience that our perspective mattered.

The Launch

The project began with us watching the film The Great Debaters, which set the tone for everything that followed. The movie introduced us to the power of argument, preparation, and voice, and made it clear that debate is about more than just talking louder than the other side. From there, we moved into writing our BARF drafts, where we individually argued either for or against a real issue in our community. My draft focused on the statement “I think public transit should stay at the price it is today,” which pushed me to think carefully about accessibility, fairness, and the real-world impacts of policy decisions.

Collaboration & Preparation 

After that foundation was laid, we were placed into debate groups. I was part of the purple group, and once teams were set, the project shifted into full collaboration mode. We researched, shared evidence, built arguments, and practiced responding to opposing viewpoints. Each step required compromise and communication, especially when deciding which points were strongest and how to divide roles within the debate. Preparing for debate meant understanding both sides of an issue, even the one we didn’t personally agree with, so that we could respond thoughtfully and strategically.

One of the most impactful parts of this project was how it pushed me out of my comfort zone. Debate demands quick thinking and confidence, especially when responding on the spot. By the time December 18th arrived, everything we had worked on came together during the winter exhibition. Performing in front of parents, teachers, and peers made the experience feel real and high-stakes, and it made me much more aware of how delivery, tone, and body language affect how an argument is received.

Exhibition Night

Our exhibition night didn’t go perfectly and that was an important part of the learning. We lost our first debate, which placed us in the consolation bracket. While it was discouraging at first, it forced us to reflect, adjust our strategy, and support one another instead of getting stuck on the loss. We went on to win our next two debates, ultimately placing third overall out of eight groups. That outcome felt especially meaningful because it reflected growth, resilience, and our ability to improve under pressure.

What I Learned

This project taught me a lot about teamwork and communication. I learned to listen, trust my group, and stay committed even when things got tough. Beyond collaboration, I realized that debate is not just about winning, it’s about sharing ideas clearly and confidently. Looking back, The Great Debaters was challenging, exciting, and rewarding, and it reminded me that my voice deserves to be heard.

In this humanities project, we are exploring how gender expectations shape people’s lives and where these ideas come from. We are learning about stereotypes, social media influences, historical patterns, and how gender expectations affect mental health, belonging, and everyday experiences. The goal is to understand these ideas more deeply and think about how communities can reduce harm and be more inclusive.

Focusing My Learning

For this project, my main goal is to grow my Critical Thinking, supported by Agency and Self-Regulation. I want to dig deeper than surface-level ideas and really ask the questions that matter: why do these expectations exist, who do they benefit, and who do they hurt. By taking agency, I will make thoughtful choices about the sources I explore, ask meaningful questions, and contribute actively to discussions. Self-regulation will help me stay focused and reflective, even when the topic feels uncomfortable or unfamiliar. Strengthening this skill will help me think more deeply, make stronger connections, and create work that is meaningful and well-informed.

Why This Learning Matters

What makes this project especially interesting to me is the chance to explore masculinity and the pressures and expectations placed on men and boys. As a girl, I have not always experienced these pressures myself, so it will be eye-opening to understand how they shape behaviour, relationships, and feelings of belonging. At the same time, I feel a little nervous about approaching this topic because it is something that might upset me further down the line, as the stereotypes around specific topics could be a hard read. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to the challenge of thinking critically, reflecting honestly, and imagining ways communities could be more supportive for everyone while learning more about masculinity in a way that feels meaningful and thoughtful.

When I began writing my information book about the Haisla People, my learning intention was to think like an anthropologist. I wanted to move beyond surface facts and try to understand a culture in a respectful and thoughtful way. Instead of assuming things or comparing everything to my own experiences, I aimed to observe, question, and reflect. As the project went on, I realized that this intention shaped how I approached every part of my research and writing.

One of the biggest things I learned was how deeply connected culture and land are. Researching the Haisla helped me understand that land is not just a place people live, it is part of identity, knowledge, and responsibility. Their ways of living, learning, and organizing society all developed in relation to their environment. This changed my thinking because I stopped seeing culture as separate traditions and started seeing it as a whole system shaped by relationships.

 

How I learned was just as important as what I learned. One research choice that mattered was slowing down and being careful with my sources and language. I tried to focus on understanding ideas rather than collecting as many facts as possible. A challenge I had to navigate responsibly was avoiding generalizations. It reminded me that every Indigenous nation is unique, and accuracy is a form of respect. This made me more aware of my role as a learner and writer.

This project connected strongly to what I already knew and to my original learning intentions. The original activities we did on anthropology helped me reflect instead of rushing to conclusions. I thought more about how knowledge is passed down, especially through experience and storytelling. I also connected this learning to past discussions about perspective, bias, and who gets to tell history. These connections helped me grow more confident in approaching complex topics thoughtfully.

 

This learning matters because my chapter contributes to the class book by adding one respectful perspective to a larger collective story. Learning about the Haisla helps deepen understanding of Indigenous histories and worldviews in British Columbia, especially by showing that there are many different ways of knowing and living. Going forward, I feel a responsibility to keep learning with care, to question simple narratives, and to listen more than I speak. This project reminded me that learning about Indigenous peoples is ongoing and requires responsibility, not just curiosity.

The Cold War was more than a period of history. It was a world gripped by tension, a battle of ideologies fought in shadows, on battlefields that never appeared on maps, and in minds everywhere. From the end of World War II in 1945 to the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the struggle between the United States and the Soviet Union created a world fueled by suspicion, rivalry, and paranoia. At its core, fear was the invisible force shaping every choice, every policy, and every life. This post explores how that fear moulded the Cold War, how it still shapes us today, and how this project transformed the way I see history.

When the project began, I stepped into it knowing almost nothing. I had just finished studying the Manhattan Project and was secretly hoping for a fresh start. The Learning Intention Post we created became my compass, a personal commitment to engage deeply and stay on track. It reminded me that learning isn’t just about memorizing facts but about confronting ideas that challenge you and force you to think differently. It became my anchor whenever I felt lost in all the new information we were taking in.

Learning the Perspectives

The Cold War lectures we endured were the starting point to my understandings. Each class unpacked moments of tension and terror, from secret spy planes to nuclear crises that nearly ended the world. What struck me most was how every decision, whether by leaders or ordinary people, was shaped by fear of the unknown. The Cold War suddenly became more than a series of historical events. It became a story of human behaviour under pressure, a chain reaction of worry, mistrust, and survival instinct.

Reading Fallout by Todd Strasser brought that fear into personal focus. The story showed how ordinary families experienced the Cold War, trapped between invisible threats and real-world pressures. I could picture the characters’ lives, their conversations filled with anxiety, their routines shaped by what might happen next. Fear was not abstract; it lived in kitchens, schools, and neighbourhoods. The book made history feel immediate, urgent, and deeply human, and it connected directly to my growing interest in how fear affects the mind.

Conversations & Connections.

The Socratic Seminars pushed me further, forcing me to question how fear operates in both history and daily life. We debated whether fear unites or divides, whether it protects or controls, and whether understanding it could change how we respond. These conversations stretched my thinking, transforming learning into an active, dynamic process. I prepared endlessly for them, finding quotes from Fallout, and making my own Socratic Seminar Cheat Sheets, which guided my thoughts in the seminars. And after, fear became a lens through which I could analyze both the past and my own perspective, seeing patterns in human behaviour that extend far beyond textbooks.

Writing my Fallout Synthesis was where everything collided. I had to combine history, literature, and discussion into an argument that revealed the pervasive role of fear. I realized that fear is rarely dramatic or obvious; it often works subtly, guiding decisions and shaping lives without anyone fully noticing. The book became a driving force in the way I learned about the Cold War, showing how ordinary people experienced constant anxiety and uncertainty. Fallout brought the history to life, giving me a real perspective on how fear shaped daily routines, relationships, and choices, and helping me understand the human side of a conflict often studied only through events and dates.

The Pitch

Our final project pitch was the moment where all the pieces of this journey came together. I had to take everything I had learned from the lectures, Fallout, the Socratic Seminars, and my synthesis essay and present it in a way that was clear, engaging, and meaningful. I wanted to explore the psychological side of the Cold War and show how fear made people act irrationally. In a previous project, I studied the lasting trauma caused by the bombing of Hiroshima, which connects directly to how fear shaped people’s minds during this period. My idea was to channel this into a mock newspaper that would focus on how fear seeped into daily routines, creative work, and culture, influencing how people understood danger and safety. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to create this due to a lack of time, but I’m hoping I can revisit this pitch soon. Presenting it made me realize how much my understanding had grown and how powerful fear is as a lens for interpreting history.

My Reflection

Answering the driving question, I see now that fear shaped the politics, culture, and beliefs of the Cold War world in profound ways. It influenced governments, guided daily life, and even controlled the stories people told themselves about safety and survival. Its effects are not confined to the past; fear still shapes how societies respond to threats and how individuals navigate uncertainty today. My biggest takeaway is that war is not just about weapons or strategy but about emotions that drive behaviour, shape decisions, and ripple across generations. This project taught me to look beyond events and see the human forces behind them, making history feel alive, urgent, and deeply relevant.

Driving Question: How can we use a formal debate to convince an audience of our perspective?

Being a good debater is one of the most powerful tools someone can have. Not only can you portray your message effectively, but your message could possibly change the way people think, speak, and understand the world around them. It challenges us to dig deeper into ideas, to question what we hear, and to build arguments that actually matter. Every time we debate, we practice thinking on our feet, staying focused under pressure, and communicating with confidence. And during this project, we take on that challenge and discover just how capable we can be.

When my teachers first introduced this project to our class on Monday, I was absolutely thrilled. I have always been drawn to the art of debating, and now we have a project that lets us dive headfirst into it. Watching The Great Debaters has made me even more inspired, showing how powerful words, careful reasoning, and confident delivery can move people and make ideas impossible to ignore. The rules they shared make this challenge even more intense: we will only find out our topic and whether we are arguing for or against it 90 seconds before the debate begins. This means we have to be sharp, ready, and fully prepared at all times. Working in our groups will push us to think quickly, collaborate seamlessly, and build strong, persuasive arguments together. I am both nervous and exhilarated, but that mix of emotions only fuels my excitement. 

My goals for this project are to grow in every aspect of debating. I am already a good public speaker, but I want to improve so I can present my ideas more powerfully, clearly and confidently. I also hope to improve my ability to think quickly on my feet, so I can respond to challenges and unexpected arguments without losing my composure. Strengthening my collaboration and research skills is just as important, because I want to be someone my group can rely on – someone who contributes ideas, supports others, and helps us reach our full potential. I aim to help my team work effectively and push us toward success, all while learning and growing as a debater myself, hoping to accomplish all this over the next month, to become “intellectual giants” as Miss Madsen hopes. We all must put our skills to the ultimate test in this debate project, tackling important topics and defending our ideas with conviction, to discover just how powerful our voices can truly be.

When I first began the Truth BEFORE Reconciliation unit, I thought I understood what reconciliation meant. I saw Indigenous art brightening the streets of North Vancouver, heard land acknowledgments at public events, and watched schools celebrate Indigenous heritage. I assumed this reflected a long-standing harmony, but as I dug deeper, I realized that beneath the surface lies a history of pain, loss, and resilience that we cannot ignore.

My launch reflection was the moment I realized how much understanding I could show through my writing. I poured my thoughts onto the page and felt I had produced some of my strongest work of the year. It was raw, honest, and personal, and it set the tone for the rest of the unit. Next, when creating my Venn diagram comparing Indigenous practices with Western ones, I struggled to make sense of the differences and overlaps between them. It was challenging to confront how colonial structures had shaped our society, but mapping it out visually helped me understand how Indigenous knowledge and Western systems can both clash and complement each other. My semantics map later allowed me to dig even deeper, connecting ideas from the readings, survivor testimonies, and the Calls to Action, creating a web that revealed how deeply history influences the present.

The final response brought everything together. Writing it felt like tying threads of understanding into a single tapestry. I reflected on generational trauma, on my own family’s history, and on the resilience of Indigenous communities. I thought about how the Calls to Action offer guidance for our generation not to carry guilt, but to act with understanding and responsibility. That sense of purpose made the work feel bigger than an assignment; it was a lesson in empathy, accountability, and courage.

Throughout this journey, I developed skills I didn’t anticipate. I learned to research thoughtfully and critically, to connect ideas visually and conceptually, and to express my thoughts with clarity and reflection. I strengthened my ability to engage with challenging material, to view history from multiple perspectives, and to recognize the power of storytelling as a tool for understanding and driving change. Working through the project also taught me how to collaborate and support others, even when the topic was heavy and challenging.

Truth BEFORE Reconciliation is important because it forces us to confront history honestly before we can imagine a better future. This unit reminded me that reconciliation is not a single moment, but an ongoing practice of learning, listening, and acting. Understanding the depth of past injustices and the resilience of Indigenous communities has changed how I see my role in the world. I am learning that moving forward requires more than awareness—it requires engagement, empathy, and the courage to make change real. This course has shown me that history is not only something to remember but something to respond to, and that is why it matters.