Originally published in TEACH Magazine, May/June 2025 Issue
By Eric Hall
I love to write. I think I first discovered my love for writing around the fourth grade. My teacher had this incredible gift for making us believe our words mattered. Even when we weren’t exactly eager to put pencil to paper, he found a way to spark something in us.
Whenever we shared what we’d written, he would rest his chin on his hands and listen—really listen—with a kind of focus that made you feel like your words were the most important thing in the world at that moment.
Getting kids to write in this day and age, however, where entertainment is merely a swipe away, can be like asking them to eat their vegetables—met with groans, bargaining, and the occasional dramatic gagging sound. Teaching writing is even harder when you have to cover the driest parts of grammar, like diagramming sentences or memorizing parts of speech. But perhaps the trickiest topic of all? Figurative language.
One year, I was supposed to give a test where students had to read sentences and identify what type of figurative language was used. Metaphor, simile, personification—you know, the usual suspects. But as I looked at the test, I realized something: it was soul-crushingly boring. The kind of test that would make even the most enthusiastic student want to take a nap.
So, I did what any responsible teacher would do. I threw it out.
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Instead, I told my students we were going to have a fashion show. Naturally, they had questions. What kind of fashion show? Why? Are we designing clothes? Is this a trick to get us to write? I refused to answer. I simply told them to wear their craziest outfits to school the next day.
When they arrived, their curiosity turned to excitement. The classroom was dark, a disco ball hung from the ceiling, and the desks had been rearranged into a makeshift runway. It looked like a cross between Project Runway and a fire marshal’s worst nightmare.
I explained their task:
- Partner up.
- Write a description of your partner’s outfit using every type of figurative language found on the original test.
- Make it sound like you’re narrating a high-stakes fashion show.
For 45 minutes, the room buzzed with creativity. Similes and hyperboles flew across the room like confetti. Students debated whether a classmate’s mismatched socks were a metaphor for chaos or a personification of rebellion.
Then, the show began.
One by one, students strutted down the “runway,” striking poses while their partners narrated into a microphone:
“Bam! Jeremy is hitting the runway like a shooting star—burning bright, slightly out of control, and possibly about to crash into the front row. His neon shorts scream louder than my little brother when he doesn’t get his way. That polka-dotted shirt? It’s like a Jackson Pollock painting had a midlife crisis. And let’s not forget those socks—one striped, one plain—arguing with each other like a married couple in a sitcom!”
Music (generically titled “Fashion Show Songs” from YouTube) pulsed through the speakers. Strobe lights flickered. Laughter filled the room. The kids were having the time of their lives, and little did they realize, they were acing the test without even knowing it.
As soon as the show ended, I looked around the room at the grinning faces of my students. I knew we had accomplished something far more valuable than simply identifying similes and metaphors. My students hadn’t just learned about figurative language—they had lived it. They had taken words and spun them into laughter, creativity, and joy.
Ultimately, the district still required all fifth graders to take a figurative language assessment. But when my students sat down with their pencils and saw the questions, they didn’t panic. All they had to do was picture the kid with the mismatched socks or the one in the wild, clashing blouse. Each memory brought a burst of laughter—and the correct answer. They passed with flying colors.
Years from now, students might not remember the difference between a hyperbole and an idiom, but they’ll remember the day they took to the runway in outfits that defied fashion and reason. They’ll remember how words can make you feel something—how they can paint a picture, spark excitement, and bring people together.
And if that’s what students carry with them, then I’d say we pulled off a pretty spectacular show.
Eric Hall and his students have been featured on different national outlets, including The Ellen DeGeneres Show. While the accolades are nice, Eric will tell you his greatest rewards come in the form of high-fives in the hallway, students who finally “get it,” and the joy of watching kids realize they are capable of more than they ever imagined. If you’d like to reach out to Eric, feel free to contact him at [email protected].
