The Future

When we discovered

the fundamental flaws in humanity –

inequality, cruelty, class divide,

discrimination –

we rectified them.

Parents choose their child’s genome

while they are still growing

only the positive traits can be deposited.

Intelligence, height, looks;

they can all be designed.

The perfect child

born from a perfect system.

Obviously, there are different services…

(premium is expensive).

Some of the more “underprivileged”

(that’s the politically correct term) 

choose to play by the genetic lottery –

apparently that’s how

it used to happen

(No wonder society was flawed, they cried!). 

The Company’s slogan is:

 cheap work is never good and good work is never cheap –

imagine what free must be. 

***

This poem displayed an exceptionally well-managed sense of tone. You can really imagine the person speaking and the world to which they belong. Clearly a lot of thought has gone into the use of poetic form which is evidenced in the artful line breaks as well as the way the poem takes George Szirtes’s brilliant advice on poetic first lines and last lines (‘step on heavily, step off lightly’). Kayo Chingonyi, Orwell Youth Prize Judge

Molly Hammerton-Woodhouse is a senior Orwell Youth Prize 2020 Runner Up, responding to the theme ‘The Future We Want’.

What was the inspiration for your piece?
It’s been a concept I’ve been working on for a while (since my GCSEs) based on something I had learnt in Biology. I’ve always been a fan of dystopian fiction, so I wanted to write about a future where society believes they have solved the problems faced by humanity currently by using a science which is seen as unethical. However, it becomes clear to the reader as they continue that there is a problem with this system and has not really changed anything, contrary to what the narrator believes. I wanted to comment on how we can’t improve these things using science (arguably the easy way out), instead we need to communicate with each other in order to create more equality in society.

What is your one tip to young writers?
Write however and whatever you want. I know as an A-level English student that when you write anything for school, you have to keep in mind what the person who is marking will be looking for: spelling, grammar, adjectives, and adverbs. That’s fine for school, but when you’re writing for you that doesn’t matter. You don’t have a success criteria to meet, you just have the message you want to write down, no matter how you want to convey it to the world. Write without constraints first, worry about editing later.

Which writer/s most inspire you and why?
There are so many to choose from! One of my favourite books is Warm Bodies written by Isaac Marion. I love Marion’s writing style as there are some beautiful lines that have stuck with me ever since I read it and I hope that my writing will have that much impact on someone. I also adore Kerri Maniscalco’s Stalking Jack the Ripper series and Stephanie Garber’s Caraval series. They both have strong female leads who are witty and not emotionally cold; they overcome such hardships and the writers, particularly Garber, use such gorgeous and unusual metaphors to create the worlds they are set in.

You Are What You Eat

U.N Headquarters, Reykjavík, Iceland:

The Politician stands before a crowd, set above them at a simple stone lectern. He is apprehensive, dabbing his lips with a bamboo fibre cloth, his initials pushed into a corner, just like, until a few years ago, every idea he came up with in his political career. He smiles to himself, takes a deep breath of cold morning air, inhaling the support of the crowd, and begins his speech.

Greater Brazil:

The sun rises over pristine rainforest, an undulating swell of green that produces 20% of the planet’s oxygen. The forest is alive with sound, and the fact that this area was a cattle ranch just twenty years ago is impossible to imagine. Frogs, skins iridescent in the morning light, add to the high-pitched songs of howler monkeys in the canopy. The shrill rattle of a million cicadas cuts through the steaming air, as local pickers pluck them from the vegetation and toss them into deep wicker baskets, ready to be fried up in a nearby city.

U.N Headquarters, Reykjavík, Iceland:

“…yes, 2116 promises to be a great year for us,” continues the Politician, “and by ‘us’ I mean the peoples of Earth. We have come so far in the last 25 years to build the future we wanted. Now look at our world! No hunger! No war! Climate change – a distant memory! We have saved our world through our diets, and now, 25 years after every nation on Earth signed the Treaty of Entomophagy, we will never look back, because our diet, our insects…” he takes a breath, filling his lungs to deliver the line he knows will make the front page across the globe and mark him out as the hero who turned the world ento-vegan, “our insects saved humanity!” The crowds cheer, the cameras flash, the Politician waves, striding triumphantly up the stone steps behind him.

Growing region, Zealand:

Crisp white clouds are scattered across an azure sky, as the farmhands walk amicably through the fields, picking tender grubs from their beds of chippings. “You guys see that speech las’ night?” asks one, a pockmarked man with a week’s stubble.

“Yeah,” replies another, a woman with a nasal voice.

“If y’ask me,” says a wizened old man with a glint in his eye, “The Politician’s a total phoney,” he picks another grub. “I remember meat, proper meat, not this bug stuff, and I bet he does too, look’n at ‘im. He says all ‘is stuff ‘bout ‘insects bein’ the way forward, but I reckon he misses burgers, bet he misses steak.”

The pockmarked man nods and continues to work, thinking of the armed guards that used to stand outside the abandoned butcher’s when he was a kid and wondering if his fellow picker is right.

An alley in Shanghai:

The whole operation takes less than two minutes.

The man is taken aside by an official-looking woman in police uniform, stabbed and bundled into the refrigerated truck with slick efficiency, his body stacked with those already harvested.

She slips into the cab and drives.

A penthouse in Reykjavík:

The Politician lives alone. He steps into the elevator, wondering how many times he will have to make that speech in his life. Behind his words, he misses meat, but knows he cannot go back on his life’s work now, tied up by the world he has made. What if the press were to discover his secret? He shudders at the thought. Those days in his childhood during the unsuccessful pescatarian regime, when his mother would cook him an illegal steak…

Remembering the glorious feel of it between his teeth – the iron taste of meat so rare it was almost blue – he shakes his head as the lift slows. The future he had wanted 25 years ago was not the future he wanted now.

Shanghai Deepwater Port:

The refrigerated truck grinds to a halt between two others identical to it. The woman slips out, watching the dock’s crane swing above her, framed against a night sky peppered with stars like bullet-holes, lifting identical containers onto a vast ship. She shudders at the thought of what each container holds, ready to be shipped off around the world to those with the deepest pockets. Her cargo is inspected by a tall man in a long black coat, who slips her the bulging envelope of cash that will support her for the next few weeks. She knows him only as ‘Dr Todd’, which she knows to be a false name. She has never told him hers. He nods and the crane whirrs to life, carrying the container from the back of the truck, with its chilled cargo onto the vessel.

She melts away into the night, wondering not for the first time if her ‘job’ is morally wrong, yet knowing that the envelope in her pocket will keep her coming back.

A penthouse in Reykjavík:

The politician reflects on his speech as he eats. He thinks about how great he must have sounded to the press, the proof in his hands in the form of the day’s papers. He looks at his food, juxtaposed against his speech splashed over the tabloids, then gazes from his window at the tiny beings in the world beneath him, barely even the size or significance of the insects they consume. He smiles.

The steak was good. It wasn’t quite like his mother’s used to be, but then it was a different meat, one that was far easier than beef to obtain in this world that his hypocritical words had created over the years, but just as illegal. He smiled – the future he had wanted then may not be the same as the future he wanted now, but the Politician didn’t have to live the same future as those pathetic insects he ruled over.

***

This was such a nuanced and imaginative piece of fiction with dialogue and characterisation that any writer would be proud to put on the page.” Kerry Hudson, Orwell Youth Prize Judge

 

Hugh Ludford was a junior 2020 Orwell Youth Prize winner, responding to the theme ‘The Future We Want’.

What was the inspiration for your piece?

I wanted my piece to be relevant now, and with the huge increase in the popularity of veganism over the last few years, I thought this would be an interesting field to explore. I added entomophagy (the practice of eating insects) to veganism as both are more sustainable than our global diet today. The idea of the corruption and hypocrisy was inspired in part by two quotes from Neal Shusterman’s book, The Toll – ‘Why must we always sabotage the pursuit of our own dreams?’ and ‘We are imperfect beings, how could we ever fit in a perfect world?’. These quotes gave me the idea of hypocrisy from those who implement change, and that humanity may never be ready to fully embrace a perfect future, tying in with this year’s theme – The Future We Want.

Why did you choose the medium of your chosen form (poem, fiction, essay etc) to communicate your idea about the future?

Originally, I had intended to illustrate my idea for the future through a newspaper report, but found it much harder to show different settings and character perspectives in this form. I really wanted to give my piece a more cinematic feel – of zooming out to see the big picture before zooming in on a single character and their views – and I decided that the best way to achieve this was by writing in a more scene-led narrative, which lent itself to a short story. I also used this medium to show the whole world, and how it had changed, rather than one country or location.

What is your one tip to young writers?

Read. A lot. I think that this is how you can get really familiar with the language and tone of different genres, which will let you write in a wider range of styles and voices. It doesn’t even matter what you read – ingredient lists, news articles, novels – none of it is wasted because anything you read will give you a better understanding of that particular style. Also, counter-intuitive as it may seem, leaving a piece you are writing for a while to do something else you enjoy can really help you gain a fresh perspective or new ideas. I find when I’m writing that my attention span and the quality of any new ideas will decrease over time, so getting out and doing something else can ‘reset the timer’ on my attention span and improve my writing.

THE FUTURE WE WANT

By Cloe Heaton 

Cloe is an undergraduate student in History and Politics at the University of Nottingham. During the lockdown, like all university students, Cloe returned home, to Wigan. Back at home and seeking ways to support her local community, Cloe began volunteering at Sunshine House Community Centre. During lockdown, the Orwell Youth Prize sought to support young people to write about their experience. Cloe  worked with journalist and Orwell Foundation Trustee Stephen Armstrong to write the below piece.

***

Considering the future we want should be exciting. As young people, we are filled with ideas and a desire to do better than those who came before. However,  the outbreak of the coronavirus has changed life in unimaginable ways, and future has never been more uncertain. As humans, we are always moving on to the next thing and failing to reflect on our present situation. At a time when everything must be taken day by day the present has never been more important when considering the future we want.

Before the coronavirus pandemic, I was a university student living in Nottingham. I had made summer plans with my friends and was looking forward to my summer term. This all changed when the university had to close, and I had to move home to Wigan. It seemed as though my life was coming to a complete stop. All my plans were cancelled, and I said goodbye to friends for an indefinite amount of time. However, the pandemic allowed me a new opportunity. There is a community centre in Wigan called Sunshine House where I volunteered during the pandemic. What I learned there has brought the present into sharp and brutal focus.

To many who pass through the doors, the centre is simply a building used for room hire, but Sunshine House is many other things. A collective of groups such as the art class and writing class. Services that change lives; groups for isolated people, support for those dealing with addiction or unemployment and support for ex-offenders. Their goal is to never turn away someone who ask for help. This is so important in towns such as Wigan where options are limited. It is vital to recognise the work of these centres so that they are able to stay open and help those in our most deprived communities.

Sunshine House offers meals and shopping deliveries to local residents – vulnerable adults who had to self-isolate or were too unwell to leave home. For young people like me, it’s hard to imagine being unable to get my own food or shopping. After a week at Sunshine House, I soon realised how naïve I was. In my first week we delivered up to 40 meals each day, a number that has continued throughout the lockdown and as restrictions have eased.

Of even greater significance is the number of adults and families referred to the centre because they cannot afford food. This shocking reality has been made worse by the pandemic but is often unreported on the news. I was discussing the lockdown with a friend, who was distressed over a news report depicting America’s growing need for food banks. When I pointed out I faced the same reality daily at the centre, she seemed shocked – she could not accept our country faced as bad a situation as America. It is too common for our news coverage to focus on the state of other countries, unwilling to highlight the issues facing Britain. It breeds the perception that Britain is doing better than our counterparts. A day working at Sunshine House could show anyone that this is not the case.

For instance – recently, one of our delivery drivers delivered a food parcel to a household and discovered children also lived there. With the family having no food left, he decided to help them himself by taking them a full supermarket shop the next day. I helped out on a second delivery. An elderly gentleman called the centre and because he was unable to leave his house to do a weekly shop – we delivered it the next day. Seeing the gentleman so grateful and relieved made me wish everyone facing uncertainty could receive the help they need. The most shocking situation for me was a single-parent family of five who had nothing in their home. Two of the children were toddlers, but they had no food and even lacked nappies. I was particularly relieved when we were able to help them.

Some days it is difficult to comprehend how much help is really needed and how far we are from getting such help to all who need it. However, there are moments that are truly touching. At the heart of Sunshine House is Carol, the receptionist. Many of those who call the centre live alone and have had to self-isolate – they call to order a meal but also for conversation. This may be their only conversation of the day. Carol makes time for all of these people. She knows many by name and what menu items they like to order. It’s a service that can easily be overlooked but makes a huge difference to someone feeling lonely and isolated.

This is perhaps something that was lost in the world before coronavirus; a sense of community. I hear many elderly people describing the strong bonds that once existed in my town. The pandemic has in some ways allowed a return of old feelings of unity. In our response, we have come together to help face an unprecedented situation. In the future I want, the sense of togetherness bred by the pandemic would continue in our communities.

In depicting Sunshine House as a positive place, it makes it easy to assume things aren’t too bad in Wigan. But the centre is in one of Wigan’s most deprived communities. According to Wigan Council, Ince and Scholes, the two towns closest to Sunshine House, are within the top 20% most deprived in England. 25% of residents claim out of work benefits, far above Wigan borough’s average of 15.9%. Deprivation in Wigan is not new. It has existed for years – when George Orwell was researching The Road to Wigan Pier he stayed in Darlington Street, a few streets away from Sunshine House. On the books 80^th anniversary in 2017, Wigan MP Lisa Nandy described how while Wigan has many strengths, the biggest its friendly and hardworking people, the town has been rocked by austerity in modern years. Wigan’s council has in fact received one of the worst budget cuts of any local authority in the last decade.

We have to ask why this is happening in modern Britain? In our future, we must aspire to a time where no one is allowed to go to bed hungry. Small community centres do not have the resources to tackle this alone. The struggle against deprivation is largely on a local level, and the issue is seldom raised nationally. Those not exposed to it are allowed to remain ignorant – although lockdown has started to change this to some extent.

Britain’s community centres have for too long been alone on the front line in the fight against deprivation in towns such as Wigan. It would be refreshing for Sunshine House to be free to flourish in the arts or community creativity if the need to fight poverty in their community was alleviated. There should always be a place for community centres, but they should be allowed to nurture the community spirit that has been reborn in the coronavirus pandemic. They cannot do this and serve everyone if future governments do not shoulder some of the pressure in helping our nation’s most deprived.

This was not the summer I imagined yet I am grateful for the lessons I learned. If we are to build the future we want we must learn from today. It is easy to make broad statements wishing for world peace or an end to world hunger. These grand dreams can start in reality if we make real change in our communities. I can use what I have seen to argue for a future where everyone in Britain has access to basic necessities. The deprivation in my town is deeply saddening, and I want a future where this is no longer ignored. We can choose to forget the unity bred by the pandemic and or we can use this difficult time to make a fresh start. Our community centres are already doing this job. We should empower them to show us the way.

We asked Cloe some further questions about her experience at Sunshine House

What prompted you to write this piece and who would you most like to read it? 

This piece was inspired by my experiences working at a community centre in my local area during the coronavirus crisis. This was an unexpected role, as obviously no one predicted what has happened in the past few months. I began volunteering not knowing what to expect.

What most shocked me while carrying out my role is the level of deprivation that exists within Wigan. I feel deprivation in working-class communities is not reported enough nationally. I was not aware of the extent of poverty until beginning my volunteering. This is too common. Those not directly affected by poverty are allowed to become ignorant to its presence in our communities. This allows the problem to only get worse. It also puts extreme pressure on small community hubs to deal with the issue alone, while they are also facing other issues such as funding cuts. The coronavirus pandemic was another issue that could not be planned for, therefore the problem was exacerbated further. This prompted me to highlight deprivation in Wigan in my piece to possibly bring attention to the issue, as I feel our country needs to address the ever-growing issue of poverty in our communities.

I feel the experiences described in my piece are important and relevant. My biggest ambition would be for my local MP to read and resonate with what I have written, allowing it to be read by further politicians. This could have a real impact, as for once the stories of those facing deprivation may be seen outside of their communities. I feel it is to stop turning a blind eye to social issues in working-class communities. I would also be thrilled to see my piece read by my community, to highlight the amazing work of Sunshine House and draw attention to the importance of community centres. This was another huge inspiration for my piece. The work of community centres is often unnoticed and underappreciated. Yet they are vital hubs in towns and small communities where services are limited. They deserve to finally get some recognition. If anyone with the influence to do this read my work, I would be delighted.

A lot of university students, like you, were forced to return home during the coronavirus outbreak, what do you think the impact of this was and what would you have done differently? 

The coronavirus pandemic cut short the university terms of students across the country. This was unexpected and cancelled many plans. I was fortunate that upon the beginning of lockdown I was able to begin volunteering at a community centre local to me, Sunshine House. However, many students were not able to secure a position and spent lockdown at home.

I feel students could have been utilised better in providing healthy volunteers. I had many friends say that they would have loved to volunteer in a similar manner to what I was doing but did not know where to go. This was while many centres and businesses were struggling to find help to stay open.

Many students also felt completely demotivated. Universities expected the usual standard of work. However, we no longer had physical access to resources such as the library and our university support network. This made completing work to a high standard difficult, not forgetting some students may not have had positive situations at home where they could work. It became increasingly stressful to complete assignments, stress which was not needed as the pandemic was unfolding.

It felt as though students were forgotten. This is a key thing that could have been done differently. Our whole lives were uprooted, with most having to move very abruptly. Yet university students were hardly mentioned by news outlets or the government. We were allowed to go home and wait for the lockdown to end. I feel this was a failure, as the skills of students could have been well utilised.

The Orwell Youth Prize aims to give a platform to young people from across the UK. The closure of schools in 2020 made it more difficult to engage some young people in the prize – and even more important that their voices were heard.

These pieces were the result of online workshops organised with the help of the Star Project community centre in Paisley. They sit alongside our 2020 winners as equals.

‘My Today is Your Tomorrow’ by Ailsa Kay (18)

I want to talk about me. I want to write about me – because when I talk, no one listens. I am now, and always have been, the invisible girl. I smile when I am supposed to and always behave. My teachers told me I was a dream to teach, my peers ignored me or wished me harm – when they noticed I was even there.

The real world is not a good place for me. I am autistic. Diagnosis at 13 felt like a breakthrough. Suddenly I wasn’t the weirdo who didn’t like change and who couldn’t speak in groups. There was a reason I was different, and it helped, a little bit.

My imagination is a safe, comforting place. I see the world in cartoons, it makes me happy. I draw my emotions instead of experiencing them. I love developing my art skills, I feel proud of myself and people always compliment me on my drawings. I’m told I’m lucky.

In reality, I don’t feel that lucky. The bass beat of a song played in the next house is like a kick in my chest. It scares me, it makes me feel unsafe. I can’t eat in the same room as my family, their chewing and swallowing grates my eardrums and makes me want to cry.

The bright sunshine that people turn their face to, sears my eyes and gives me headaches. Landscapes whizzing by in the car make me dizzy. I sit in the back of the car, with my headphones on – that landscape isn’t for me – it doesn’t understand me.

I eat the same foods because it’s safe, not because I want to. I’m scared of chocking and any new taste that I’m not expecting stabs my tongue and makes me sick. I want to try new foods, I just can’t, it’s too much. Too much hassle, too much fear – too much.

I can’t have labels in my clothes, I rarely buy new clothes. They don’t feel right. It scratches and itches and makes me want to cry. I worry about what people went through to make the clothes. What animals died to make the clothes. Do people know that they are making animals more extinct?!? Every time I get something new, the thoughts go round and round my head. I’m so tired.

The smell of a nice cooked meal or a newly bought perfume brings tears to my eyes. It’s like someone has put a mask on me and is forcing me to only smell that. It’s sickly, I can taste it. It’s unbearable all the time.

So, I sit, self-imprisoned by my disability, in my safe, plain, clean, odourless, soundless room. An invisible girl who doesn’t fit in the world – or maybe the world doesn’t fit me. Ask me what I want the future to be? Safe. Accepting. Understanding.

I think about my disability a lot. My mum calls it my superpower. She says it makes me extraordinary and I can see, feel things that neurotypical people can’t. She thinks I’m a hybrid – the next generation of humans who base decisions on fact not on useless emotion. If she’s right, here’s my facts about what I suspect the future will be like for me.

My safe self-imprisonment won’t be safe anymore. Our world is burning. The apathy and ignorance shown towards the environment will continue to get worse. Celebrities preaching about ecology whilst flying in private jets and wearing a new fashion every day will continue to grow power. For a brief shining moment during the pandemic, their voices were muted, almost mocked, but they’re back. Singing songs from the comfort of their ivory towers about how WE (the little people) should live our lives. Sheeple nodding and smiling and agreeing with them. Massive environmental charities who spend more on their marketing budget than on solving problems are heralded like heroes. I feel despair and confusion. If, like my mum claims, I’m the hybrid, the one with the superpowers to make people see what their doing is wrong how do I change that? How do I change that from my tiny room?

The future I see has forest fires everywhere, no green spaces, the oceans are dried up with plastic, the animals are dead, more (unknown) medical crises will hit us. The air will be unbreathable and full of toxic carbon, the light density will be too bright because we won’t have an ozone layer.

With the trees gone, sound will travel further – you’ll hear it. You’ll hear it then the way I hear things now. You’ll hear the squeal of tyres on the road and honking of horns of angry, disillusioned, dying commuters who are too sick and tired to walk. Because, despite the planet dying, we still have to make money – because that’s what we’re told is important. The masks you hate wearing right now, will be mandatory, restricting your breath forever. Cotton will have failed so the clothes will be scratchy and bring you out in a rash. Your oh-so-special people with a disability will be locked in their house 24/7 as it’s too dangerous for them to be in the world.

Your future is my painful reality now. I am continually assaulted by my senses in a world that doesn’t understand me. But I understand it. I understand it so well that I’m confused why you’re not doing something to make it better. Maybe my only superpower is to beg you to think before using plastic – or buying that new ‘must-have’ leather bag. Maybe you don’t take the car today. Maybe you covet nature over materialism.

Autism may have imprisoned me, but you keep me there. Help me. Stop what you’re doing and protect me. I’m scared.

2020 Orwell Prize for Exposing Britain’s Social Evils winner and freelance journalist Ian Birrell had this to say about Ailsa’s piece:

“This piece is a wonderful slice of writing. For a start, it is beautifully written with elegance and maturity. Yet it also gets across with immense power the feelings, the mood and the profound strength of a young woman adult with autism confronting the world. I have often heard these sentiments from teenagers with autism and their families, yet rarely seen them expressed with such honesty and clarity. I look forward to reading more from Ailsa in the future.”

‘The End’ by Ryan McFedries (14)

I awake from my sleep of never-ending pain, hoping that this nightmare will just end. I look out the window, take a glimpse of Alice Street, fearful, ready for the worst.

Many years ago, an infection threatened our society. It ruined the lives of so many. We tried to stop the spread by keeping our distance, staying clean, but the scientists knew that it wasn’t enough. They claimed they made a vaccine.

It’s hard to escape onto the streets. The only thing worth going outside for is the old abandoned Royal Alexander Infirmary which contains necessities – but the chances of getting supplies were lower than low. It’s a battle to get anything, never knowing what’s going to happen next. I don’t even think about the next day, I deal with one day at a time.

Whoever took the vaccine was never the same. One after another they were injected until the last handful of survivors noticed the effects it had. I thought I was the last person on earth.

I hear an alarm. I conjure my courage to face the dangers of the world in the hope of finding another soul. I made my decision to go out. I leap out of my house onto Alice Street. I see a glimpse of a shadow passing. A cold breeze rustles across my back. I can’t help thinking I’m being watched.

BANG

There is a person in front of me. Something is wrong. Covered in blood with pale skin he charges at me. I’m going to die.  I run and I hear a scream from a tannoy – ‘help, come quickly, the STTC Test lab, come quickly, please.’ Then it cuts off.

I rush as fast as I can. All I can see is figures trying to break into the lab and there was the voice calling ‘over here.’

I look everywhere and notice a figure on the roof. I climb the fence, struggle up at the side and when I get up there’s a woman standing there saying, ‘they’ve mutated.’

She had been working on a solution. She nearly had it before they broke in and destroyed everything. The only thing left was a hard drive. All she needed was time to figure out what went wrong.

We walk and walk until it felt like forever. I’m not giving up on a chance to survive. We both freeze. Someone is watching us, the old familiar feeling.  Something bad is about to happen. We run until we see a light flashing.

The electricity stopped working soon after the government collapsed. There was no power left. The hospitals were no use any more. People went home to die.

We hope for shelter and a way for the doctor to figure it out. We are getting hungry, starting to be vicious towards each other. The danger when too many people want and there’s nothing to be had.

I go in search of food, keeping alert. I notice a shop door, all locked up. I smash the window, scared by the noise. Am I safe? I wait, then look for food. My eyes light up when I see an old freezer and I grab as much as possible. The next thing I know I’m hit in the back of my head.

I awake in a cold room wondering where I am. An uninfected lies before me, ripped apart by something I’ve never seen. I wait it out till morning, As soon as the sun is up, I dash back with the food around my waist. I enter the shelter, dump the food at my feet and fall to the ground, wanting just for this all to end. Silence falls. “I need to get what I can from my lab,” she says.

We start back, past looted shops. There is no noise at all – not even the wind blowing. We get to the lab and, see the door is smashed. The place is destroyed, barely any thing left. We search through the rubble, see the testing facility. The door is wedged shut. There is something inside. I can hear it moving towards us. We run. Again. Forever.

The MSP for Edinburgh Central, Ruth Davidson, commented: 

“Ryan McFedries’ lyrical and imaginative piece, ‘The End’, is a brilliantly bleak depiction of Paisley in an imagined future where a vaccine response to COVID results in a death sentence, is wonderfully evocative. The dystopia he draws shows the best and worst of humanity – feral destruction and selfless attempts to find a cure”.

‘Extinction’ by Christopher McFedries (12)

The year 2020 an infection spread across the globe putting us in lockdown, and we are not allowed out for even for a minute.

When I look out my bay window in Alice street not even a soul passes, Hope Hall Church and St Charles Church no more! There bells toll for sorrow and not rejoice anymore.

Shops are no more, so I need to scavenge for food.

I go to Morrisons, Aldi’s and the Co-op for food. Paisley is a complete ghost town. The Paisley Art centre and the Abby are empty. It’s usually full of people with joy in their hearts now sadness its overwhelming.

I keep thinking these lost souls are zombies, but they’re just abandoned. I fear for the oncoming generations kids born into despair and poverty; I wonder how we are going to survive.

How long can we cope?

If we can’t get access to essentials like pasta, beans and toilet roll because of silly panic buying how’s is a baby going to cope? Schools have stopped and they may never resume to full capacity.

How am I support my family? If I’m allowed to meet someone, could they carry the virus too?

The last time anything on this scale was the Spanish Flu – or maybe the time of the dinosaurs. Most people say it was an asteroid but what if it was a virus that killed the giant lizards?

And I wonder – could this be our time? The extinction of the humans?

Experience an Orwell Youth Prize workshop (or as close as we can get to it in lockdown) online!

We’ll be adding new segments and resources from writers in the next few weeks, but you can download the first two sections of our online workshop below:

Workshop: 

Segment 1: What is the Orwell Youth Prize? 

• Segment 1 – What is the Orwell Youth Prize and how should I approach this year’s theme – ‘The Future We Want’? – Powerpoint with a voiceover from our Delivery Director 
• Segment 1 – (without voiceover)

Segment 2: What future do we want now? 

• Segment 2 – What future do we want now? Powerpoint with a voiceover from our Delivery Director 
• Segment 2 – (without voiceover)

Segment 3: What should I write about? 

• Segment 3 – What to write about Powerpoint with a voiceover from our Delivery Director
• Segment 3 – (without voiceover)

Segment 4: 

• Segment 4: Why is it the Orwell Prize?
• Segment 4 – (without voiceover)

Segment 5:

• Segment 5: Which form to write in? 
• Segment 5 -(without voiceover)

Extras

Guide to Style

Guide to Starting Writing

Guide to Form

 Future News & Views Worksheet-  Construct your future headline and the article that goes with it!

What do our writers think?

We asked Poet Matt Bryden what George Orwell means to him, and how Orwell himself might have written about what’s happening now.

Orwell Youth Prize: Matt Bryden from Mick Callanan on Vimeo.

 
In the time that the Orwell Youth Prize has been open for entries, thinking about ‘The Future We Want’ has taken on a different significance. Everyone’s world has shifted immeasurably over the last few weeks, and it feels easy to say that the future we want is the past we just had.

Now more than ever, we need the courage to imagine, and the creativity that difficult times bring. We have a big new global challenge, but one that has brought into relief many problems that were already with us: our relationship to the environment, our experience of education and healthcare, the way our government and media communicate, our connection to our communities.

What does the future look like now? What does it mean to write about a future we want? Who’s thinking about the future while we’re all thinking about the present?

Resources for Now

As things shift and change, alongside our existing resources, we’ll be pulling together reading and listening recommendations that may provide hope, comfort, new ideas or thoughtful commentary in this unprecedented period.

At the Orwell Youth Prize, we aim to cover a wide range of perspectives and interpretations from across the political spectrum, if you disagree with an argument made in any of our resources, think about why and how you would counter it, consider language, political bias and the overall aim of the piece.

Orwell for Now

George Orwell lived through tumultuous times. He also went out of his way to be a part of history, volunteering as a soldier during the Spanish Civil War and working for the BBC during the Second World War creating programmes for broadcast in India, which was then part of the British Empire. Orwell’s method – making sure he saw with his own eyes, and forever questioning his own assumptions – meant that he often changed his mind, though he was never shy of arguing for what he believed. Through his fiction, journalism and essay, he was constantly exploring what it means to tell the truth in an uncertain world. Across the Foundation website you can find examples of how his writing can be a source of inspiration now.

The current crisis means we cannot go out and find the story like Orwell did: the story has come to us. But Orwell’s method is just as important. His writing is an example of how there is strength to be found in embracing, and interrogating, change. Our present might at times feel like the lonely, limiting future which Orwell imagined in Nineteen Eighty-Four. However, it is worth remembering that Orwell’s present is our past. Orwell was writing when the United Kingdom was reeling from the Second World War, the communist Soviet Union was a world power, everyday life was very different to how it is today. Orwell described Nineteen Eighty-Four as a warning, not a prophecy. What warning would you give to the future?

‘It is impossible to found a civilization on fear and hatred and cruelty. It would never endure… It would have no vitality. It would disintegrate. It would commit suicide.’ Nineteen Eighty-Four

‘Every February since 1940 I have found myself thinking that this time Winter is going to be permanent… At any rate, spring is here, even in London, and they can’t stop you enjoying it.’  ‘Some Thoughts on The Common Toad‘ (1946)

‘The actual differences in social atmosphere and political behaviour between country and country are far greater than can be explained by any theory which writes off laws, customs, traditions, etc. as mere ‘superstructure.’ ‘Fascism and Democracy’ (1941)

Coronavirus & The Future

In the short run we are all infected – Liam Stanley (London Review of Books Blog)

The Seven Early Lessons of Coronavirus – Ivan Krastev (New Statesman)

Outlook Podcast (BBC World Service)

A letter to the UK from Italy: this is what we know about your future – Francesca Melandri (Guardian)

Coronavirus futures – where might we be headed and to what kind of new normality – Ravi Gurumurthy, Charles Leadbetter (Nesta) 

Politics

Coronavirus has changed our world. Suddenly we face a stark choice: distance or death – Suzanne Moore (Guardian, Orwell Prize Winner)

Nationalism is a side effect of coronavirus – Gideon Rachman (Financial Times, Orwell Prize Winner) – See if your school has signed up to free Financial Times subscription here – or request a free account )

How coronavirus is remaking democratic politics – Philip Stephens (Financial Times). See if your school has signed up to free Financial Times subscription here – or request a free account )

The Coronation – Charles Eisenstein 

Consequences 

The Economist’s coverage of the coronavirus – A selection of stories about covid-19 and its consequences  (The Economist) 

Is shutting down Britain – with unprecedented curbs on ancient liberties – REALLY the best answer? Peter Hitchens (The Daily Mail) 

How Power Profits From Disaster – Naomi Klein (Guardian)

Virus lays bare the frailty of the social contract – Editorial Board (The Financial Times) See if your school has signed up to free Financial Times subscription here – or request a free account )

The Media 

Fact-Checking – Full Fact

Fact or Fake – BBC Bitesize

How you can fact check claims about the new coronavirus

What makes us believe a false claim? Age, education and cognitive biases all play a part

Work

It is time to make amends to the low-paid essential worker, Sarah O’Connor (Financial Times, Orwell Prize Winner) – Free to read 

Coronavirus means we have to put ideology aside and bring in a universal basic income, Alex Sobel (Independent) 

Youth 

It’s time for an NHS National Service – Aris Rossinos 

Education – When the Covid-19 crisis finally ends, schools must never return to normal – Niamh Sweeney (The Guardian)

Race

Why I’m fighting for an independent public inquiry into the Covid-19 deaths of people of colour -Rianna Raymond-Williams (Gal-dem)

BAME People Are More Likely To Die Of Coronavirus Than White People, Arj Singh (Huffington Post)

Environment

After Covid-19, The Climate – Anne Orford (London Review of Books Blog)

Listening: Short Cuts – Habitat – Josie Long (BBC)

A Message From the Future With Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Culture & Writing

‘The impossible has already happened’: what coronavirus can teach us about hope – Rebecca Solnit (The Guardian) 

What our contagion fables are really about – Jill Lepore (The New Yorker)

‘Poetry can be the bridge that connects us during these difficult times’ – Mary Jean Chan (Guardian)

Feeling overwhelmed? How art can help in an emergency – Olivia Laing (Guardian) 

Winter in the Abruzzi – Natalia Ginzberg 

Healthcare

‘As a chronically ill person, I know it is vital we approach coronavirus through the lens of community’ – Lauren Nathan-Lane (gal-dem)

Housing

The idea of sharing a home across generational divides is having a come back – Fatima Hudoon (The Bristol Cable)

Coronavirus UK – Sadiq Khan offering free food & hotel rooms to homeless – Joe Mellor (The London Economic)

Community

This Changes Everything, Neal Lawson (Rethinking Poverty – The Webb Legacy)

WRITING ADVICE

Guide to Style

Guide to Form

Encountering Orwell

The brilliant work of previous winners of the Orwell Youth Prize

If you have any further questions, suggestions, or thoughts, please get in touch with Alex Talbott, alextalbott@orwellyouthprize.co.uk

On Friday 5th July 2019 at Pembroke College, Oxford, the Orwell Youth Prize announced this year’s winners, runners-up and highly commended entries. The winners were awarded their prizes by Christine Richardson, Senior Communications Manager at Oxford University Press and Bill Hamilton, Orwell Youth Prize Trustee, literary agent and literary executor of the Orwell Estate at A.M Heath.

Congratulations to our winners, runners-up and highly-commended – and to everyone who entered this year and gave their responses to the theme, A Fair Society? Every entry was read by at least two assessors, and the final 6 winners were chosen by the 2019 judge writer Caitlin Moran.

WINNERS

Junior Prize

Silke Dale Brosig, Teeth

Francesca Morgan, The Faceless Drug

Tom Warburton, The Man on the Side

Senior Prize

Nadia Lines, The Aptitude Test Kid

Jessica Johnson, A Band Apart

Theo Burman, Why Did You Organise the Protest?

RUNNERS UP:

Junior Prize

Sidra Hussain, Equal Importance

Elizabeth Tappin, Sewn Shut

Rosie Lewis, Care in the Community

Megan Robinson, Dignity

Clarissa Murphy, Through His Eyes

Senior Prize

Jazmine Bennett, Disable-Bodied

Asher Gibson, Brick Lane: A Case Against Social and Ethnic Exclusion in the UK

Cia Mangat, Britain

Devki Panchmatia, The Interview

Rhianna Prewett, Out of Body, Out of Mind

The following entrants were also highly commended:

In the junior prize:

Dean Chughtai, A Fair Society
Umme Hussain, Times Have Changed
Maia Biddle Mogg, Silence
Lidia Goonatilaka, Feminism
Aeneas Bonelli, 2055
Elan Davies, Mama
Tiana Chutkhan, Safe?
Ryan Vowles, The Peasant King
Niamh Weir, The Spike
Amos Miah, Apologies
Conor Holland, Partition of the Heart

In the senior prize:

Kylie Clarke, Her Story
Anna Young, The Fairness Tree
Morgan Davies, Property Law, and the benefits of violating it
Max Kelly, Once
Sally Piper, Discovery of Witches
Ella Tayler, The Britain you do not want to see, but undoubtedly have
Layomi Abudu, Society is as fair as I am white
Jade Van Jaarsveld, We, The Homeless (A Spoken Word Poem)
Isabel West, The Survival of a Moth
Aydin Maharramov, Potato Peel

Caitlin Moran to judge the 2019 Orwell Youth Prize

We are delighted to announce that writer Caitlin Moran is judging this year’s Orwell Youth Prize, the theme of which is ‘A Fair Society?’.

Following Orwell’s example, entrants of the prize are encouraged to draw on their own experiences of the world around them and write in language that is clear, concise and compelling for their audience. The form the writing takes is up to the writer, previous winning entries have included poetry, prose, journalism and short stories. Moran will judge both the junior (aged 12-16) and the senior (sixth-form) categories of the prize and the winners will be announced at the annual Celebration Day on the 5^th July.

Moran’s work has often drawn on her own childhood and teenage experiences with humour, wit and integrity and the youth prize is excited to have her on board with this year’s competition.

‘If you don’t come from the “right” background or school, it’s hard to know how to break into writing as a career. Who do you talk to? How do you apply?  That’s why I’m delighted to judge this year’s Orwell Youth Prize – as my career started when I entered a writing competition, at the age of 15, so I know just how life-changing awards can be. It might not feel like it, but there really is a whole industry waiting to discover new voices. Please – write something. Show us what you’ve got.’ Caitlin Moran 

Caitlin Moran wrote her first novel, The Chronicles of Narmo, at the age of fifteen. She has worked for The Times since she was eighteen as an interviewer, TV critic and columnist including, in the most-read part of the paper, the satirical celebrity column ‘Celebrity Watch’. She has won the British Press Awards’ Columnist of The Year, Interviewer of the Year, and Critic of the Year. Her bestselling memoir, How to be a Woman, won the National Book Awards Book of the Year, was an instant New York Times bestseller, and is published in twenty-five languages. The film of her novel, How to Build a Girl, produced by Channel 4 and Monumental Pictures, will be released later this year. With her sister, she co-wrote the Channel 4 sitcom Raised by Wolves. She has published two bestselling collections of her journalism, Moranthology and Moranifesto. Caitlin Moran’s latest novel, How To Be Famous, was a number one bestseller on publication in 2018. She is published by Penguin Random House in the UK and HarperCollins in the US.

Caitlin isn’t her real name. She was named Catherine. But she saw ‘Caitlin’ in a Jilly Cooper novel when she was 13 and thought it looked exciting. That’s why she pronounces it incorrectly: ‘Catlin’. It causes trouble for everyone.

About the Orwell Youth Prize

The Orwell Youth Prize is an annual programme for 12-18 year olds culminating in a writing prize. Rooted in George Orwell’s values of integrity and fairness, the prize is designed to introduce young people to the power of language and provoke them to think critically and creatively about the world in which they are living.

For more information and details contact: Alex Talbott, Programme Manager, The Orwell Youth Prize, alextalbott@orwellyouthprize.co.uk

Do we live in a fair society? What might a fair society look like, and what challenges do we face in trying to create one? 

George Orwell wrote with integrity, truthfulness and fairness about the world around him. Now it’s your turn.

You can write in any form you like: journalism, essays, short stories, blog posts, poems, and plays are all welcome. How you respond to this year’s theme is completely up to you. However, we’ve pulled together a few resources that might help get you started or spark an idea.

George Orwell on Fairness

WHY ORWELL?

‘The average millionaire is only the average dishwasher dressed in a new suit.’
George Orwell (Down and Out in Paris and London)

‘Is not England notoriously two nations, the rich and the poor?’
George Orwell (England Your England)

‘Poverty is poverty, whether the tool you work with is a pick-axe or a fountain pen.’
George Orwell (The Road to Wigan Pier)

‘All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.’
George Orwell (Animal Farm)

As the Orwell Youth Prize, we find the man himself is often a good place to start.

Orwell wrote on a wide range of subjects relating to fairness, from economic distress in Britain in the 1930s, to the impact of the British Empire, and the dynamics of totalitarianism. He wrote from his own experience, but he also sought to explore lesser-known stories and perspectives.

It is important to bear in mind that Orwell was writing almost 100 years ago, so some of the language he uses may seem uncomfortable today. Try to think about what has changed and what remains relevant with regards to his subjects. Think too about the writing techniques Orwell uses and the imagery that sticks with you as you read. We have a host of Orwell resources available for you to get your teeth into, and some helpful context on Orwell and fairness to frame his work. Find out more.

THE UK TODAY

When we think about fairness and justice in our society, it is hard to know where to begin. Inequality affects individuals in many different ways. Poverty, health, employment, gender, race, education, geography and housing are just some of the key factors that impact inequality. Often, these factors do not stand in isolation but intersect.

Below are some links that explore how these factors are impacting individuals today. We will keep adding new resources throughout the course of the prize being open. This list is in no way exhaustive. Think also about news items you’ve seen, articles you’ve read and what you observe around you.

WHERE ARE WE NOW?

WATCH

Stephen Armstrong, ‘The New Poverty. The Beveridge Report: where are we now’ (Verso)

Professor Green: Living in Poverty (BBC -subject to TV license)

LISTEN

Truth and Lies about Poverty, hosted by LSE “Beveridge 2.o” and The Orwell Youth Prize

‘A Northern Soul’ hosted by June Sarpong MBE on Is anyone listening? The Joseph Rowntree Foundation Podcast

INEQUALITY & HEALTH

READ

Stephen Armstrong and Maruxa Ruiz del Arbol, ‘The rise of DIY dentistry: Britons doing their own fillings to avoid NHS bill’ (The Guardian)

WATCH

Darren McGarvey, ‘How childhood adversity can impact learning, health and wellbeing’ (NHS Health Scotland)

LISTEN

Unreported Britain: the nation’s teeth – The Story from The Guardian Podcast

RACE & CITIZENSHIP

READ

Amelia Gentleman, multiple articles on the Windrush Scandal (The Guardian)

Mark Townsend, ‘Four black men die. Did police actions play a part?’ (The Guardian)

WATCH 

Kamila Shamsie, ‘Unbecoming British: citizenship, migration and the transformation of rights into privileges’ – The Orwell Lecture 2018 (The Orwell Foundation and UCL)

FAIR EMPLOYMENT & WORK

READ

Richard Partington, ‘Four million British workers live in poverty, charity says’ (The Guardian)

Stephen Armstrong, ‘The young farmers who earn so little they cannot afford their own produce’ (The Sunday Telegraph)

Paul Brook, ‘Why working parents are struggling to repel the rising tide of poverty’ (Joseph Rowntree Foundation)

HOMELESSNESS, HOUSING & SHELTER

READ

James Beavis, ‘Spat on and ignored’: what I’ve learned from a month sleeping rough in London’ (The Guardian)

Anna Minton, multiple articles on housing and the city  (The Guardian)

WATCH

Stacey Dooley, ‘The Young and Homeless’ (BBC – subject to TV license)

REGIONAL INEQUALITY

READ

Sarah O’Connor, ‘Left behind: can anyone save the towns the economy forgot?’, (The Financial Times)

Juliette Bretan, ‘The North-South divide is getting worse – because London is sucking all opportunity from the rest of the UK’ (The Independent)

GENDER & INEQUALITY

READ

Aleksandra Wisniewska, Billy Ehrenberg-Shannon and Sarah Gordon – ‘Gender pay gap: how women are short-changed in the UK’ (The Financial Times)

As told by Kate Lyons, ‘Transgender stories: ‘People think we wake up and decide to be trans” (The Guardian)

WRITING ADVICE

Guide to Style 2019

Guide to Form 2019

Encountering Orwell

Don’t forget to take a look at the brilliant work of past Orwell Youth Prize winners too

And if you have any further questions, suggestions or ideas, please get in touch with Alex Talbott, alextalbott@orwellyouthprize.co.uk 

We are delighted to announce the winners of The Orwell Youth Prize 2017. Congratulations to our winners, runners-up and highly-commended – and to all who entered. We received 178 entries and every entry was read by at least two assessors. Thank you for giving us a chance to read your writing.

The winners were chosen by best-selling and award-winning writer and journalist and Orwell Fellow Nicci Gerrard, who judged the final round of the Prize. Nicci said:

I’ve been bowled over by how freshly and fearlessly these young writers grappled with the subject of identity, finding their own ways of interpreting it, and their own vibrant voices to convey something of its complexity. It was striking how many of them acknowledged the constructed nature of the self, so that whether they were approaching identity through gender, culture, social media, inherited faith or the agonies of Brexit, the question was always there of of what it actually means to be ‘me’.

 

ANNOUNCING THE ORWELL YOUTH PRIZE 2017

Winners

Junior Prize

• Lydia Houghton, The Eyes
• Yazan O’Mahoney, Different
• Jamie Toeg, A Million Drops of Water

Senior Prize

• Molly Elliott, Lost Boys: Identity Edit
• Anisah Kasim, Losing the Identity of ‘Muslim’
• Jack Pollard, To Leave or Not to Leave?

Runners Up

Junior Prize

• Joe Atkinson, Inconvenient Truths about Political Identity
• Georgia Balmer, The True Identity of Lisa
• Adam De Salle, Theft
• Leah Figiel, The Dream Snatchers
• George Robinson, Once Upon the Mind
• Catherine Tickell, Mother, who are you?

Senior Prize

• Zarah Alam, Monday 15th May 2017
• Jessica Curry, Pride
• Richa Kapoor, World Peace
• Lauryn Kelly, Why left-liberalism hasn’t protected LGBT people
• Naomi Kerr, Southbound Identity
• Cameron O’Sullivan, Monsters and Men

The standard of entries this year was incredibly high. The following entries, from both categories, were also highly commended:

• Ashna Ahmad, Hey, Who Stole My Culture?
• Kate Baird, To Feel, Therefore I Am
• Charissa Cheong, Generation Blank
• Alex De Brunner, The Impact of Wanting an Identity
• Blythe DeBeer, Citizens of Nowhere
• Flo Ellary, You mixed?
• Lucinda Hogarth, Angry women full of hope will change the world
• Felicity Hudson, Are We Now What We Were?
• Lucy Knight, Uncharted Territory
• Matilda Lammin, Gender Identity
• Ambrin McBrinn, A Letter on Identity
• Lucy McManus, Cold Hands
• Sasha-Annalies Moore, To Journey in the Dark
• Lucas Pringle, Teenager. Texan. Undocumented. American.
• Shaina Sangha, Sets of Numbers
• Aidan Tulloch, The New Un-curiosity Shop
• Hannah Wallace, I Can Sing a Rainbow
• Niamh Weir, #Identity

We first met on 30 October 1969 when I bought The Road to Wigan Pier in Sussex University Bookshop.  The light blue sticker on the inside verifies the date and place, and the back cover shows that I was willing to fork out 4s (or two days’ cigarettes) for the pleasure.

Was it worth it?  Well although it appealed at the time, I have to say now that considering it was a 1960s Penguin the cover was pretty crap: bearded man in flat cap stares past pit head. The beard was totally wrong but every essay has a dying metaphor and here’s mine: you can’t judge a book by the cover.  It’s in front of me now.  Flocked and crumbly of course, but still seeing service at the front and indeed in hand to hand fighting with 23 undergraduates only yesterday.

Inside, there’s my usual teenage inanities. If he is talking about ‘civilization’; I write ‘Civilization’ in the margin.  If he says it’s ‘hell’; I write ‘Hell’.  ‘Can’t do without coal’ summarizes chapter two in a way that obviously didn’t stretch me at the time.  Later on, there’s a nasty splutter of red exclamation marks at Orwell’s cosy picture of the working-class family resting by the fireside.  No idea why.  The fireside is one of my truest childhood memories.

The book helped me emotionally.  Back home, the terraces were red raw with female labour and all the men in my family came home black. Brighton’s terraces, on the other hand, were pinky pink and creamy blue and I never figured out where anyone actually worked.  Surrounded by such south coast degeneracy, I took heart from Orwell’s dark heroes driving forward “blackened to the eyes…throats full of coal dust”.  Pale superior persons – including you and me and the editor of the TLS, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Comrade ‘X’ author of Marxism for Public Schoolboys (like him) – I loosely identified with higher education and all the company of Sussex Heaven.

Unlike a lot of great writers, you can learn from Orwell.  I learned for instance that you could be subjective and objective at the same time, that you had to look for the tangible moment, that all sentences must be subjected to the severest literacy test, that there can be no criticism without moralism and all moralism is vulnerable.  Eventually, I also had my first example of a man not really seeing women no matter how hard he looked.  Best of all, he gave me the courage to speak as I find, even when he is the target.

Later on I bought the four volume Penguin collected essays dated, this time, ‘January 1973’.  I remember reading them in bed with my girlfriend in wintry Leyton.  Make of that what you will, but she and me are still together and George is still paying rent.

Robert Colls is Professor of Cultural History at De Montfort University and the author of the 2013 Biography George Orwell: English Rebel (OUP)