In Singapore, primary schools do well to impart the finer points of fiction writing. Particularly, they collate lists of “Show Not Tell” phrases for their students and integrate them into weekly spelling drills, hoping that the latter would be able to execute something beyond the run-of-the-mill writing that despairs many a language teacher.

But here’s the thing: when kids regurgitate phrases like “grinned like a Cheshire cat”, we don’t exactly award them the top band marks, dismissing them as cliches. Then, why do we adults invest so much energy into ensuring that our young ingest these perfunctory phrases?

Can I create time and space in my lessons to allow students to think of their own original phrases, never mind that such incubation of heartfelt sentiments will be more tedious than using the phrases from their spelling list? Do I have the headspace to take a step from my hectic life and think of the phrases that truly reflect my quirks and idiosyncrasies; showcase where I’ve been and where I want to go; and put a smile on the examiner’s face, exhausted from reading tons of scripts?

I am not sure either, but this is my attempt today: His smile radiated warmth, like sunflowers leaning toward the sun.