Sarah: Here’s a piece of writing I composed at a storytelling workshop I ran recently with SA committee members of the Australian Science Communicators.
SA Writing Centre Development Manager David Chapple encouraged a room full of 50 attendees to use metaphor to describe someone they felt strongly about (like or dislike). We were asked to include reference to sound, smell, an animal, a plant and to record what we had learnt from this person.
He’s like a scared little boy. Terrified they might see him for who he really is.
When I see him talk, I feel like I want to slap him. His face moves like a rubber figure. He pauses deliberately so that his adoring audience has time to applaud and hoot. His words are so ugly and because I know he has chosen them on purpose they make me want to approach him and punch.
He’s like a tomato with a blonde wig, all red and yellow and waiting to be smashed and burst.
It’s unbearable, because although I want to run at him and make him shut up I also want to run far, far way and pretend I never heard him.
The flags around him make him seem important. The T shirts with logos scream louder than his words. He has support. He has so much support that it’s unbearable. Where did theses people come from? How are they so different from me?
He’s like an indignant Cheshire cat. Grinning. Stupidly grinning. He knows I can’t reach him, he’ll always be up that tree and I’ll be down here.
He’s proud. He’s proud to be such a smug, smarmy arsehole. It makes me nauseous.
He’s taught me that this is how history is made. When one person capitalises on pre-existing fear.
Who is it?
[image thanks to https://www.flickr.com/photos/rosefirerising/]