Source A: The name on the rehearsal sheet
An original contemporary non-fiction-style practice text, written for this question.
On the first rehearsal sheet, my name had a star beside it and the words “born organiser”. I was thirteen, and I thought this meant I had been trusted with something important. By the end of the week, I was carrying the prop boxes, checking who had arrived and reminding people when the next scene began. If someone forgot a line, they looked at me. If the rehearsal ran late, I was asked to keep everyone focused.
I did not mind helping. I minded that the star seemed to have made every other job disappear. When I asked to try a speaking part, the teacher said she needed me where I was most useful. I understood the compliment, but it also closed a door. The people who were good at organising, it seemed, did not need to be asked what else they might be able to do.
One afternoon, I arrived late after missing the bus. The teacher frowned and said, “I thought I could rely on you.” That sentence stayed with me longer than the lost rehearsal time. I had been proud of being dependable; now it felt as if I had promised never to make an ordinary mistake.
At the next rehearsal, I asked to read a small part. I stumbled over two lines, and someone laughed. I wanted to give the script back. Instead, the teacher let me try again. I still helped with the props, but I no longer treated that as the only thing I could offer. The star remained on the sheet until the production ended. I stopped seeing it as a description of my whole character.
Source B: Not the quiet one
An original contemporary non-fiction-style practice text, written for this question.
During the first week of our school production, the director wrote “quiet” next to my name. She meant that I spoke softly and rarely put my hand up. I knew she was trying to remember who needed encouragement. Still, the word followed me from the casting list to the rehearsal room. People began asking someone else to read aloud before I had even opened my script.
I was not silent at home. I made up voices for the characters and read their lines to my younger brother. At school, though, there were thirty people waiting and a teacher with a pencil. My voice seemed to shrink when everyone turned towards me. I could not tell whether the label had noticed that or helped to create it.
The director asked me to read one line while the others moved scenery. Nobody was looking at me, and I got through it. Next time, I read a longer speech. It was not suddenly easy, but I began to look forward to those moments. The director crossed out “quiet” and wrote “needs a moment”. I preferred that: it described what happened without pretending it was all I was.
On opening night, I still felt nervous. I did not become the loudest person in the room, and I did not want to. But I spoke clearly enough for the audience to hear. I wish the first note on the list had left more room for that possibility.
Compare how the writers present their ideas and perspectives about labels given to pupils in a school production team. In your answer, consider what each label suggests, how the pupils respond to it, and how each writer uses details or language to convey their perspective.
220 exam-style questions on Edexcel A IGCSE English Language 1.1 Content overview, covering 1.1.1 Anthology non-fiction texts, 1.1.2 Analysing linguistic and structural devices, 1.1.3 Links and connections between writers' ideas, 1.1.4 Transactional writing for purpose and audience, and 1.1.5 Accurate spelling, punctuation and grammar. Each one has a worked solution and a mark scheme showing where the marks go.