NO CLICHÉS
HERE!
Seventh-grader Syon read aloud, to
his lesson partner and me, his description of a boy character who had just
finished grueling football tryouts and was “feeling like he was on Cloud Nine.”
I pointed out that the simile added nothing to the reader’s experience because
it was a cliché without imagery and without power. His lesson partner—also a
good friend now—nodded in agreement. I suggested that he come up with his own
fresh words, as a soccer player himself, to describe this moment, “when a young
athlete is sweaty, tired, aching, but deliriously happy for having given his
all—you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
While he was thinking of a new
simile, his lesson partner, Daniel, offered, “What about: ‘he felt a rush of
dopamine’?” Immediately, with flashing dimples, he giggled and waved his hand
dismissively as we all burst into laughter.
“Not exactly multisensory imagery
there, Daniel,” I joked, “except maybe for a scientist who understands
dopamine!”
“See, you are from another planet!” exclaimed Syon. (Syon often teases Daniel
that he is from another planet because of his extensive vocabulary and
uncommonly sophisticated diction.) “That simile completely sums up how you
think!”
“That simile and the dimples,” I added. “Erudite and adorable, simultaneously.”
“What does erudite mean?” asked Syon.
I looked at Daniel whom I could see
was about to answer with a definition. “Daniel?”
He, of course, answered, “Erudite
means knowledgeable, scholarly….”
And Syon replied, “Of course it
does.”
When the next round of laughter
subsided, Syon’s eyes lit up and he announced, “I just came up with a simile:
‘feeling like a dog who had finally caught his own tail.’”
“Wonderful!” I exclaimed. Daniel nodded. “What a perfect way to show that after the boy almost exhausts himself with
a seemingly impossible task, he finally succeeded. What a great simile!”
And what a great lesson day!
