Contrary to the norm, I actually remember what my primary school English teacher taught me.
She taught me some sentences/structures that remained indelibly etched in my mind:
What an unexpected sight met my eyes!
Little did I know that…
I remember these sentences/structures because she would put a tick above the phrases that she deemed as higher-level on everyone’s essays. Now, in an era where digital devices were conspicuously absent, those ticks were the dopamine rush that fuelled my motivation.
Three decades later, it seems that this longstanding practice has remained in our educational system.
Initially fired up by the prospect of nurturing creative young minds, I strategically planned a lesson in which my students were to pen down all the things they liked. From their list of favourite things, they were guided to extrapolate to form a Show Not Tell phrase. I encouraged them to include their original phrase in their compositions.
During the recent year-end exam, two of my students really did so. Their sentences read as:
She was as happy as a child receiving a pet for the first time.
I was as excited as an anime fan watching “Jujutsu Kaisen”.
Did my students get ticks for their originality?
Unfortunately, nope.
I have realised that the marking rubrics and process do not reward innovative writing. Teachers have stacks of essays to mark - not in the most conducive headspace to savour young minds’ words. They have become accustomed to seeing particular SNT phrases on paper; their neural pathways have become entrenched in this regard.
In order to ace the composition component, coupled with understanding the rules of the game, I have to teach them how to play their personal best too.
Moved to move, I divided the class into three levels of students and curated phrases on sadness for each level. They would have nine months to internalise the phrases until these words flow beautifully and naturally from their souls during the Pri Sch Leaving Exam.
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