I
sat in the Kindergarten Parents’ Meeting on Literacy Night at my daughter’s
public elementary school listening to the “Kindergarten Teaching Team” explain the
newest “Language Arts Curriculum.” Words and phrases flew out of their mouths, flitted
like hummingbirds around the room, hovered before me for but a moment while I
tried to translate them, and then darted away to be replaced by the next buzz
words. A PowerPoint presentation,
illustrated with numerous graphs, indicated that “Word Recognition” had
replaced spelling. “Context clues” substituted for vocabulary lessons. There
was talk of “Journaling” and “Narrative Construction.” Did I mention that this
was a meeting for kindergarten?
Did I walk into the right
presentation? These children are only 5 years old, I
thought. And their handwriting still needs serious
practice. Wait a minute – during the
entire presentation about reading and writing (pardon my gaff – I meant
language arts) the teaching team never once mentioned handwriting.
“Does
anyone have any questions?” an enthusiastic, fresh-out-of-school team member
asked. I glanced around at faces wearing either stunned, confused, or bored
expressions.
“I
do,” I ventured, raising my hand (being in school takes you right back, doesn’t
it?). “I didn’t hear anyone mention anything about handwriting. When will they
be practicing their printing?”
The
young teacher looked to the assemblage of seasoned team members standing at her
side. “We no longer teach handwriting in the curriculum,” one stated. “And
handwriting isn’t graded.”
“What?”
I spluttered. “Why?... How are they supposed to learn how to write neatly if
they aren’t practicing, and how will they know they are expected to write
legibly, if they aren’t graded on it?”
“We
have to cover what they’ll need to learn for the standardized tests. There’s
not enough time for everything, so, unfortunately, handwriting had to go. But
you can certainly work on it at home,” one of the teachers explained.
“Handwriting’s
not important anymore,” a woman next to me grunted. “Kids type everything; all
I use to write is a computer, and I keep notes on my phone. I don’t think I
even own a pen anymore.”
Others
around me nodded their agreement. My heart sank into my feet, and I sat there
too shocked and saddened to respond.
Now
I must pause to say that I have the utmost respect for teachers. The patience
they have for not only dealing with a room packed with children, but with
parents, administrators, and all the continuing education requirements, coupled
with constant “improvements” to curriculum, and tight budgets merits a gold
medal – a real gold one. And I realize that these teachers were
adhering to the curriculum they were expected to teach - one chosen by administrators
focused on test scores and how the school district measures up against
others. But handwriting - gone? So,
despite the facts that I work full-time, and the evenings are filled with
cooking supper, eating, homework, bath time, a bedtime story, and who can
predict what else, I tried to squeeze-in printing practice and to make sure
that anything printed sloppily on homework sheets was erased and re-written.
When
the Literacy Night for Second Grade was held, I asked about learning cursive. “We’ll
work on that ‘some,’ but we’ll be sending home guides for you to practice at
home.”
“Gee,
thanks. Is the school district going to pay me to teach at home what should be
included in the curriculum?” I didn’t say it, but I wanted to.
My
daughter is in 4th Grade now. Her printing is neat sometimes but
messy when she hurries. Her cursive is pretty – when she uses it, because she
complains that she can’t write very fast that way. “That’s because you don’t
use it enough to gain speed,” I reply. “When I was your age, everything was
required to be written in cursive. After
we were taught it, we were expected to use it, unless printing was specified
for a form.”
“That’s
not the way it is at my school,” my daughter answered. “We don’t have to use
cursive, and we don’t get anything marked off for not writing neatly.”
“I
know,” I agreed, despondently, pining for days gone by. I recently read that on
the 2006 SAT exam, only 15 percent of the students wrote their essay answers in
cursive. Printing seems to have replaced
cursive, and typing has replaced most of even that. But oh, the beautiful
handwriting of the past! Flourishes! How I love
those!
Though
a number of cultures developed handwriting styles featuring connected letters
and flourishes, the Romans first developed a script handwriting style similar
to what we would recognize. Versions dating back to at least the 5th
century A.D. featured words containing lowercase letters connected together.
Monasteries preserved and perfected handwriting, with monks tasked with copying
religious and classical texts. Charlemagne, 1st Emperor of the Holy Roman
Empire (reign: December 25, 800–January 28, 814), assigned an English monk in
the late 8th century to create a standardized style from the various
regional styles in his realm. The Carolingian miniscule was born, designed to
be legible, with punctuation and separation between words containing lowercase
letters. During the Middle Ages (5th-15th centuries A.D.),
the cost of parchment escalated with the demand for books, so a denser style of
writing evolved in Europe. In the mid-15th
century, Johannes Gutenberg (c. 1395–1468) utilized this
Gothic style as the first typeface for his printing press.
Meanwhile,
elegant handwriting became synonymous with the educated, higher classes. How
you wrote represented who you were. Penmanship schools opened in the 1700s to train
master scribes. The word “cursive”
was coined during this period from the 18th century Italian word “corsivo”
which was derived from
the Medieval Latin word “cursivus” which means “running.” During both
the colonial period and the early days of the United States, professional
penmen copied documents such as the Declaration of Independence (1776) and the
Constitution (1787) in cursive. Various professions adopted certain styles as
representative of their occupations, and men and women developed flourishes
associated with their sex. Platt Rogers Spencer (1800-1864), an abolitionist
and bookkeeper, created a distinctly American style of cursive - the Spencerian
method- which was taught in school. Businesses embraced the Spencerian script,
and you can see an example of it in the original Coca-Cola logo.
By
1900 in America, Austin Norman Palmer’s (1860-1927) method of loopy characters
replaced the Spencerian style. Charles Zaner (1864-1918) and Elmer Bloser
(1865-1929) created a cursive style utilized in children’s textbooks during the
20th century. And of course, everyone adds their own personal style
to whichever method of cursive they have been taught. That’s what makes our individual
handwriting unique. Our handwriting can even be analyzed to assess our
personalities. In 1977, National
Handwriting Day was established to celebrate the power of handwriting. This day
falls each year on January 23rd. The significance of that date? It’s the birthday of John Hancock (1737-1793),
who famously penned his signature on the Declaration of Independence in script large
enough so that everyone could read it, damn the consequences!
I
can picture John Hancock dipping his quill in the inkwell and signing his name.
I can imagine the sound of his pen scratching on the paper. You know the sound
Harry’s quill made when he wrote in Tom Riddle’s diary (which really was
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s diary but I’m brave so I’ll name him anyway – Lord
Voldemort) in Harry Potter and the
Chamber of Secrets (2002)? I love that sound. But the reality is that
dipping quills in ink wells is tedious and much messier than what we see
transpire at Hogwarts. Of course, instead of blotters and stained fingers, witches
and wizards do have magic.
Though
I must say, I’ve always found fountain
pens – the closest practical thing to a quill that we Muggles can possess - to hold
an air of magic. Back when I held my first job as a paralegal at law firm, a
pricey Montblanc Meisterstück fountain pen was a must-have for the
attorneys. To acquire one indicated the young associates had become established
in their chosen profession. I once asked an associate if I could borrow his for
a moment, and he actually said, “No. I don’t lend my pen. Not to anyone. Not even
for a moment. Not even if I’m standing right here.”
“O-kaaaay…”
I’ve
never been that possessive of a pen,
but I am particular about what kind I use. I like the grip to feel just right.
And I don’t like ink that smears. My current favorite is the B2P gel ink pen
made by Pilot from recycled water bottles. With it, I record on paper the drama
and particulars of managing my life: grocery lists, errands, flashes of
brilliance for my latest writing project, post cards, greeting cards, and thank
you notes. I think most everyone still
appreciates the thought and effort you make when you record words on paper and
send them via the U.S. Postal Service. How unexpectedly exciting it is to
receive something hand-addressed, just to you, that isn’t a bill or junk mail! And,
despite blogs and Facebook, girls still buy diaries in book form that lock with
keys to record on paper the musings of their minds and the longing of their
hearts. (I know, because my daughter has one.) Yes, texts, direct messages, and
emails are quicker for communicating now, but in this instantaneous world,
folks still wait minutes for tea bags to steep, spend nine months growing
babies, pursue dreams for years, and mark lifetimes loving those held dear.
I
type for work all day long. And then, I type personal things, such as this
blog. But when I write by hand, I am conscious of the fact that my handwriting
represents me on paper – not as a mark of my class, education level, or
profession, as in days past, but as a sign that I care enough about others and
about myself to write neatly and legibly. That’s why I insist that my daughter
endeavor to master her handwriting skills. And I hope there will always be pens
and paper - and people who cherish them with each stroke and flourish.
May
your tea be sweet and your cotton high,
Leigh
Ann Thornton